


Last Name Was Supposed to be Parker

by SmolTownFangirl



Series: First Name Harley [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And lashes out, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, Grief, Harley Grieves, I Promise it Ends Happy, I promise you, Litrally, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Comes Back, Please don't read this if you're sensative to grief, Please like this, Takes Place in IW cannon, Thats all i'll say, This one isn't a blend of comedy and drama, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, Tony is such a good dad, dad tony stark, first chapter was physically hard to write, however, its really really tough, purely stages of grief, this is like, this one gets a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolTownFangirl/pseuds/SmolTownFangirl
Summary: Peter Parker is dead. And Harley Keener grieves.





	1. Stage One: Anger

**Author's Note:**

> jklafhjafajklfebfdsj Here you go!! 
> 
> I promised that it wasn't the end and it wasn't! 
> 
> So first off, I will say this: 
> 
> This fic is the grieving process. Its always from someone else's persepctive, and its basically other people seeing how Harley is dealing with grief. He's slightly out of character in this fic, because hes absolutely destroyed. I tried to make it as close to how I've reacted to grief and how I think he would canonly react to grief. So if you think that what Harley does is uncharacteristic, please please take all things into consideration. 
> 
> Also, Harley lashing out at Tony is more of a 'fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you saw him die and you couldnt save him ur supposed to be a hero' without thinking of what happening around him. 
> 
> I worked really really really hard on this, so I do hope you like it!!
> 
> Trigger Warnings:  
> Grief  
> Anger as Grief  
> Eating and not eating is mentioned  
> Punching  
> Lashing Out

_ Ten days after the snap  _

_ Moments After Harley finds Out  _

_ Anger _

  
  


Tony Stark loved his son. 

He loved his son with every fiber of his being. He had loved Harley Keener since he met him, because this kid was his son in all but blood. He always had thought he would be his dad, especially after Macy died. In those months following her death, he had cemented his place as his dad. And Tony loved his son. 

When Peter Parker- a kid that Tony also considered his- had come and asked for permission to ask Harley to get married, Tony had been ecstatic. He could see how much Harley loved him. How happy Harley got around him. How happy Peter was around Harley. And Tony had told him, that if he could keep Harley safe and happy, he could marry him. And Peter had sworn up and down that he would do everything in his power to make Harley safe and happy. Because Peter loved his son and his son loved Peter. 

Watching his son break down at the news of Peter’s death, Tony wished he had died instead of Peter. 

Harley loved Peter Parker, so much, and there was nothing worse than watching him hyperventilate on the floor. He knew his son. He knew that Harley probably believed so strongly that Peter would be back. He knew Harley probably convinced himself of this. He knew that. He  _ knew _ that. But seeing this was worse than any hell could ever be. He would have given everything he had to make his son happy again. To bring Peter Parker back. 

He would have stolen the stars from the sky in order to bring Peter Parker back. 

But he wasn’t back, and they didn’t know if they could get him back yet, and Harley was breaking in front of him. 

“Harley,” Tony found himself kneeling next to his son, “Harley.” 

Harley was sobbing, his entire body shaking, “Peter- can’t- he can’t be-” 

“I’m so sorry, Harley,” Tony could feel his eyes sting, “I’m so sorry.” 

“He said he was coming back.” 

“He told me he loved you,” His voice was barely above a whisper, as he pulled Harley to him, “He told me he loved you, Harley.” 

Just like that Harley’s entire body tensed. His shaking grew harder, his breath even more labored, “You were with him.” 

Tony blinked, tears gathering in his eyes, “Yeah. I was.” 

“You didn’t save him.” 

“What?” Tony breathed, “Harley, he died from Thanos’s snap. I couldn’t have saved him.” 

Harley pushed Tony away, hard, “Then you should have beat Thanos!” 

“Harley-” 

“You should have beat Thanos!” He stood, wiping away his tears furiously, “You should have beat Thanos! And then no one would have died.” 

“I tried,” Tony said, the image of Peter disappearing in his arms engraved in the back of his mind, “I tried Harley!”

“Clearly not hard enough!” Harley shouted, ignoring the horrified gasps that came from Pepper and Abbie, “You clearly didn’t try enough! You should have beat Thanos! And Peter shouldn’t have been in space in the first fucking place! God dammit!” 

“Harley-“ 

“Save it!” He was screaming at this point, tears running down his face, “The love of my life is dead! Because of  _ you! _ Because of  _ your  _ actions!” 

Abbie stepped forward, “Harley-“ 

“No,” He pointed at her, still crying, “Don’t make excuses for him! He shouldn’t have let Peter come! He should have beaten Thanos!” 

Tony hung his head. 

Harley was right. He should have beaten Thanos. He should have forced Peter off the ship, made sure he got back to earth. He should have done  _ something,  _ anything to make sure that Peter got home safely. 

And now Peter Parker was dead, because he was a dumbass who couldn’t defeat one villain. 

Harley was crying harder now, “You should have fuckin’ beat Thanos! You should have stopped Peter! You should’ve done  _ something!  _ You’re supposed to be a hero!” 

“Harley,” Tony was crying too, now as he stood up, facing his son, “Harley…” 

“No!” Harley’s hands were ripping at his own hair, “You should have done something!” 

Tony stepped towards his son, all the grief in his heart gathering, “I’m so sorry.”

“You should have done something!” Harley screamed at him, “You should have stopped him! You should have stopped Thanos!”

“I’m so sorry,” Tony took another step towards him.

Harley broke, flying towards his dad and lashing out, pounding on his chest- far enough away from the arc reactor that it didn’t hurt there- his hands hitting Tony again, and again, and again in some sort of grief stricken rage, “He should be here! He should be alive! And he’s not! He’s not because you couldn’t fucking kill Thanos!” 

“I’m sorry,” Tony wrapped his arms around his son, his grip tight and, he hoped, comforting, “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry doesn’t-” Harley was crying so hard he was shaking Tony, “Sorry doesn’t bring Peter back!” 

He stopped hitting Tony, stopped fighting against his dad, the force of his own tears too much. Tony wrapped his arms even tighter around his son, because he was here. 

Harley was hurt and scared and most of all,  _ grieving.  _ Tony knew what that was like. He knew. He knew how Harley must be feeling, how he was lashing out. He understood it. 

He knew why too. 

Harley was just like _ him.  _ Harley was just like  _ Tony Stark. _ Harley was a  _ Stark. _ And when Starks grieved, they lashed out and they spiraled. They hit things, they drank, and they do anything in their power to find someone to blame that's not themselves, because there’s always that overwhelming feeling that  _ they _ are at fault for everything. When Stark’s grieved they destroyed everything in their path, just trying to find something to feel other than the heartbreaking grief that comes with losing the person you love. 

Tony understood. 

Tony understood perfectly. 

That didn’t mean that the fact his son was blaming him hurt any less. That didn’t mean the overwhelming feeling of guilt blaring in his chest lessened. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t dying inside. That didn’t mean he felt anything other than hatred for himself. 

Because on some level, Harley was right. That was the kicker. Tony  _ should _ have done something. Tony should have stopped Peter from _ coming on the ship.  _ Tony should have done  _ something  _ more. Tony should have stopped  _ Thanos. _ Tony should have done something  _ more.  _

And it hurt, knowing that. 

It hurt a lot.   
  
  


_ Thirteen days after the snap  _

_ Three Days After Harley finds Out  _

_ Anger _

  
  


Pepper looked tired, the bags under her eyes looking better but not good, “I just don’t think it’s smart.” 

“Pepper,” Tony sighed at his fiance, “I don’t care.”

“He doesn’t want to see you right now Tony.” 

“He’s my son.” 

“He’s in mourning.” 

“All the more reason I should try to talk to him.” 

“Tony,” Pepper was clearly getting tired of having this conversation again and again, “He’s grieving. He’s angry.” 

“So what?” 

“He’s angry at  _ you.” _

“That doesn’t mean anything.” 

Pepper threw her hands up, “It clearly does!” 

“He’s my kid,” Tony told her, firmly, “I need to be there for him.” 

“Right now, I think it’s best if you weren’t.” 

“Pepper!” 

“Tony, listen,” Pepper sighed at him again, her shoulders tense, “He needs space to grieve. He believed that Peter was coming back so much. He truly thought that Peter was alive. He found out that Peter wasn’t and I think it broke him. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He needs space.”

“How do you think I feel?!” Tony snapped at her, crossing his arms across his chest, “I saw him die! I held him while he was dying! And he was just as much my kid as Harley is!” 

There it was. The simple truth that no one wanted to acknowledge. Harley may have  _ lost _ everything but Tony  _ watched _ everything disappear. Watched everything go down, watched Peter get turned to dust, disappearing from the world forever. 

Not forever, Tony reminded himself, just until they found a way to undo the effects of the Decimation.

If they even could find a way to undo the effects. 

He inhaled hard, “I watched him die, Pepper. I’m not losing another son.” 

“You won’t,” Pepper told him softly, her voice no less stern, “You won’t lose your son. But for god's sake, Tony, let him grieve. And don’t let him blame you and yell at yourself. I know for a fact that you blame yourself too much for me to be able to send you to go talk to him. Especially because he’s angry. At you.” 

“He has every right to be angry,” Tony argued against her, looking away from her, “If he had just gotten off the goddamn spaceship when I sent him home-” 

“Nothing would have changed,” Pepper told him, firmly, “He died from the snap. He didn’t die in battle. He died because Thanos won.” 

“I shouldn’t have let Thanos win.” 

“You tried to make sure he didn’t.” 

“I should have tried harder.” 

“Tony.”

“What? Its true.” 

“It’s not fair to you,” Pepper insisted at him, “And it’s not fair to Peter’s memory.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Don’t say what?” Pepper snapped at him, finally losing her patients, “You were his hero, so don’t even try to play that game of ‘oh its my fault!’  Because it wasn’t your fault! And you really think that he would blame you?! Or would want you to blame yourself?! You’re a fool, Tony Stark, if you think that he would blame you.” 

Tony stayed silent, looking anywhere but her. She sighed, “If you want to go talk to Harley, I won’t stop you. But he’s not ready to talk, and he’s certainly not ready to talk to you.” 

“Ever think that maybe I need to talk to him?” 

Pepper was quiet as she left.  
  
  


Harley hadn’t been out of his lab in days. Since he had found out, he hadn’t been back outside. Tony was acutely aware of this fact. He hadn’t let anyone in the lab either. Not Abbie. Not Miles. Not Pepper. And not Tony. Never Tony. When he had stormed off the roof, sobbing and angry, the glare he had sent Tony had hurt. 

It had hurt more than an open wound. It hurt more than the constant pain of the arc reactor. It hurt more than a shield to a chest. It hurt more than a panic attack. Because that was his  _ son.  _ His son  _ hated  _ him. Maybe it was just in grief, but god it killed Tony so much. 

Unfortunately for Harley, Tony had access to every single lab in the building, and there was no override for it. Meaning that if Tony asked, he could get into the lab that Harley had barricaded himself in. And get in he would. 

He stood in front of the door, feeling small and unprepared. He didn’t feel like a dad. He felt like a kid faced with the biggest issues in the world and not knowing how to deal with them. He wondered if that would ever go away. 

“Boss, Harley asks that no one disturb him.” 

“I’m going in anyway.” 

“Are you sure that's a wise idea, boss?”

“No,” Tony answered honestly, “But I’m not about to let him go through this alone. No one deserves that. Least of all Harley.” 

“He’s asked not to see anyone.” 

“Let me in anyway.” 

And just like that, he heard the lock on the door click out of place. He held his breath as he entered the lab. 

The room was dark, and filled with the clanging of metal on metal. Harley wasn’t wearing any safety equipment but his trade marked goggles that he’d had since his freshman year. Tony watched him for a second. 

His son was more like him that he wanted to admit. 

The grieving, the anger, the need to be enough, the need to create. He was a copy of Tony in so many ways, and that hurt his heart. Because Tony had never wanted him to be anything but Harley Keener, a kid who shouldn't have to grieve. He shouldn't have to resort to being like Tony. Harley was supposed to be better than him. 

“Get out.” 

Harley wasn’t looking at him, but he did stop the hammering.

“Harley-”

“Are you deaf?” Harley hunched over the metal even more, “I said get out.”

Tony flinched at the tone, but stood strong, “I just want to talk.” 

“Well I don’t.” 

“You haven’t been out of the lab in days.” 

“Does it matter?” Harley laughed bitterly, his knuckles going white as he gripped the metal harder. 

“Of course it does,” Tony stepped further into the lab, coming towards the bench, “You can’t live off the mini fridge in here forever.”

“So let me perish,” Harley hissed finally looking at him, “And get the fuck out.” 

“No.”

“I said to get the fuck out!”

“No,” Tony told him, voice firm, “You’re not going to perish and I’m not getting out.” 

Harley’s eyes snapped towards him, “Get. The. Fuck. Out.

“No.” 

“God,” Harley exclaimed, his hands flying into the air, “Can’t I fucking mourn in peace? Without the man who failed him being in the motherfucking room?!” 

“Of course you can mourn in peace,” Tony didn’t even blink at the comment, ignoring the sting of his words, “But you shouldn’t have to mourn alone.”

“Fuck off!” 

“No.”  

“Get the fuck out of my fucking lab,” Harley was shouting now, angry and hurt, “I don’t want to fucking talk to anyone!” 

“Harley-”

_ “NO,” _ His voice was loud and piercing, “LET ME MOURN. LET ME GRIEVE. Let me have this! Give me some fucking space! I don’t fucking need the man that should have made sure Peter got fucking home standing over my shoulder pestering! I don’t fucking need that! I don’t fucking need you!” 

Harley pointed out him, the action backed by anger, “You don’t get to fucking come in here acting concerned! He’s dead! He’s dead because you couldn’t pull your shit together and stop Thanos!”

“Harley,” Tony hissed, temper flaring, “Don’t you fucking accuse me of that! I tried to get Peter home-”

“YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HIM LEAVE!”

“I TOLD HIM TO GET OFF THE SHIP!” 

“YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE! YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE HE WAS OFF,” Harley was breaking down, his anger bubbling to the surface in his ranting rage, “YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE HE WAS OFF AND YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE THANOS WAS DEAD! PETER SHOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING LEFT, THAT FUCKING IDIOT-” 

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY ANYTHING ABOUT PETER-”

“HE SHOULDN’T HAVE LEFT ME!” Harley’s scream was loud and earth shattering, and the entire room went silent, “He shouldn’t have left me. He shouldn’t have left this earth.” 

“Harley…”

“Just get out of here,” He pointed towards the door, “I want to be alone.” 

“You’re not alone.” 

Harley laughed humorlessly, “Obviously not.” 

“I’m here for you,” Tony told him, all and any anger he had felt leaving his body, “If you need  me I’m here for you.” 

“I don’t need you.” 

“Harley-”

“I want you out. I don’t want to talk to you.” 

“Harley, please-” 

“He’s dead,” Harley’s head whipped to face Tony, and Tony noticed the dark circles under his eyes, “He’s dead. He’s dead because he fucking  _ left. _ He  _ left. _ He shouldn’t have left. You shouldn’t have let him leave. You shouldn’t have let him get on that ship. He should be right here beside me. He should be. But he’s not. He’s not, because he’s dead.” 

Harley took a shaky breath, “We had talked about getting married after college. He bought a ring. And now, I’ll never have that because I can’t even fathom loving anyone but Peter Parker. And he’s dead. Peter Parker is dead. Because you- someone supposed to be my fucking father- couldn’t kick his ass off a spaceship! He’s dead. He’s dead because of you.” 

“Harley-”

“Just get out Tony.”

And Tony, the coward, left. 

The bags under Harley’s eyes were dark. They were dark, and Tony was guilty. He was guilty of everything. And for the first time since he came home, Tony Stark, man of iron, Tony leaned against the wall, and sobbed.

  
  


_ Seventeen days after the snap  _

_ A Week After Harley finds Out  _

_ Anger _

 

 

Tony had been seventeen when his parents crash- murder, really- had happened. He’d been seventeen and in his junior year of MIT when his life had turned for the worse.

He remembered the day it happened. 

He had been drunk off his ass in the mansion, and argued with Howard before they had left. Before they had left his life forever. Jarvis had woken him up at one am, old and weary at seventy four years old, his hands shaking. 

_ “There’s been a crash,”  _ he said, his voice shaking harder,  _ “There’s been a crash on the way to the airport.”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “Tony,”  _ Jarvis had shaken him more,  _ “You need to get up. There’s been a crash on the way to the airport. We need to go to the hospital.”  _

Tony had gotten out of bed in a rush, tripping over his own feet trying to scramble to pull on a shirt and shoes. Jarvis had driven him to the hospital, and they had sat in a tense silence. Of course it had been tense. 

They both knew what had probably happened. Howard had been as drunk as Tony. He had crashed the car in an intoxicated stupor, and now… now, they might be hurt. Or worse. Dead. 

But Tony hadn’t wanted to think about that. Tony had been actively trying not to think about that. 

They pulled into the hospital, the press already swarming. Jarvis, the man that had raised him, turned to him,  _ “Are you sure you’re okay to go in there?”  _

_ “No,”  _ Tony had shaken his head. He remembered feeling way younger than seventeen in that moment,  _ “But I have to.” _

Jarvis just nodded, and left the car, Tony bustling after him. Despite the press, they had let the Stark heir pass through with no questions.  The second they got in the hospital, Tony knew. He knew his mom was dead. The look in the nurse's eyes gave it away. 

Tony had choked,  _ “Are they…?” _

_ “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Stark,”  _ Doctor something or another old him,  _ “Your parents are dead.”  _

_ “How?” _ Tony’s voice came out as a hiss. 

_ “They both died on impact,”  _ The doctor hesitated,  _ “Howard Stark was found to have triple the legal amount of alcohol in his veins.” _

Tony didn’t remember what had happened next. 

He remembered the way Jarvis, seventy four year old Jarvis, held him back and down, pulling him away and off the doctor. He remembered how Jarvis wouldn’t let him go, no matter how many punches he threw at everything around him, no matter how much cursing and screaming Jarvis wouldn’t let him go. 

And he continued to not let him go. Every single time Tony would lash out, Jarvis would just hold him. Because Jarvis  _ knew _ him. Jarvis knew what he needed. He knew that anything Tony said was coming out of a place of grief. 

Tony never did grow out of lashing out in grief. 

Not when Jarvis died. Not when he found out the truth. 

But now, taking a look at his son, his son that was  _ just like him,  _ he found that nothing in his heart would let him lash out. 

He wondered if this was how Jarvis had felt when Howard and his mom had died. If this need to be there for the kid that you helped raise was something that Jarvis went through. And not for the first time, Tony found himself wondering how. 

How hard Jarvis put up with him? 

He didn’t know. But he needed to learn. Fast. because the longer Harley lashed out, the harder it would come back to hit him. That was something that Tony had known since his parents passed, and the press got ahold that he had attacked the doctor in his grief stricken rage.

He needed to know how Jarvis helped him. 

But he didn’t know.   
  


“I just don't know how he did it,” Tony found himself telling Pepper that night.

“Well,” she just hummed, looking over her reading glasses at some paper for SI, probably something to do with resources after the snap, “Edwin Jarvis was amazing.” 

“He was a far better a dad than I am.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Pepper still wasn’t looking at him, in favor of her red pen flying across the page, “I think that you and Harley are two different people with two different needs. Maybe Jarvis was a better dad for you, but you’ve always been a better dad for Harley.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” she put her Paper down, “You were always kind of…” 

“Unstable? Broken? Damaged?” 

Pepper snorted at him, “Your words not mine.” 

“My words are always right,” Tony pointed out to her, “Either way continue.” 

“You were always kind of ‘unstable’,” she put quotes around the word, “And Harley… isn’t. Jarvis probably knew what you needed. Because while no one had ever seen you truly grieve like that, they all knew what you needed when you did grieve. Jarvis knew how to comfort you. But… we’ve never really seen Harley grieve.”

“He did when Macy died,” Tony pointed out to her, “He was grieving then.” 

Pepper nodded, “Yes, he was. But he also had known that he would be okay. His main concern, if I remember correctly, was if Abbie would be okay. He knew that at the end of the day, he would have a place to sleep, a family that loves him, and a sister that would need him. He knew he would be okay. So he let himself grieve, but he also knew he would be okay.” 

“In all of his experiences he’s never really grieved,” Pepper continued, “Even if Peter disappeared, he never grieved, he just tried to figure out a way to find him. And at the end he always came back. Granted, some ways of him coming back were weirder than others- like that time he got sucked into the multiverse- but he always came back. And I think Harley realizes that he might not be coming back. He’s dead, and I think Harley is finally facing a situation where he has no choice but to grieve.” 

“That… that makes sense,” Tony sighed to her, “I just wish i knew how to help.” 

“Be there for him.” 

“I’m trying to.” 

“Right,” Pepper rolled her eyes, “But I mean that you should be there for him in the way he wants. He wants space and he wants time. So… remind him that you’re there for him, but give him the space he needs.” 

“Okay.” 

“And really,” Pepper looked back at her paper, “You’ve been the best dad Harley could ask for. He never had a dad, and you provide him with support, love, help, and everything. Jarvis may have been the best dad, but you’re the best dad for Harley.” 

Tony pretended those words didn’t make his heart swell with joy.  

  
  


_ A Month after the snap  _

_ Twenty-Five Days After Harley finds Out  _

_ Anger _

 

 

“Why the hell are you here?” 

Harley looked like he was in pain. He looked so tired, so much more frail than the last time Tony had seen him. His eyes didn’t even acknowledge Tony, still looking at the wires he was fusing together. 

Tony placed a plate of food next to him, “You need to eat.”   
  
“Not hungry. Leave.” 

“You need to eat Harley,” Tony told him softly, “I know that the mini fridge ran out. Friday told me.” 

“I’m still not hungry,” Harley clenched his fist around the wire, “Get out.” 

“I’ll leave when I see you get something to eat.” 

“I’m not hungry, Tony.” He snapped, his voice sharp and hard, “I told you to get out. So beat it.” 

“I’ll leave,” Tony stepped away from the table, and Harley deflated in something akin to relief, “After I see you eat.” 

Harley’s gaze snapped to his, “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

“Harley-"

“Don’t,” Harley looked away again, “Don’t ask me to talk to you.  _ I don’t want too. _ I don’t fucking want to talk. And I don’t want to eat.” 

“But you need to,” Tony stepped towards the desk again, pushing the food more towards him, ignoring the wires, “It’s really important that you eat.” 

“I don’t want to. I’m not hungry.” 

“Yes you are,” Tony raised a brow at him, “I know you are. I’ve been where you are, in a lab for weeks. A minifride of junk food and sodas. Nothing else. I’ve been there Harley. I’ve been grieving and hungry. So don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I know you are.” 

“Get out,” Harley was glaring at him, “Don’t fucking say you’ve been where I am.” 

“But I have.” 

“So you’ve had the person who was supposed to be someone you look up to,” Harley’s voice was sharp and cutting and quiet, “Fail you. And you’ve had the one person who could ever truly love you die. You’ve had everything you thought you were going to have ripped out of your hands?” 

“Actually,” Tony wasn’t about to let Harley step on him, just to feel better, “I have. Steve Rogers failed me, because he lied to me about how my  _ mother  _ died. My mom. The one person in my life who never once tried to change me, and just loved me for me. I’ve had everything ripped from my hands and more. But just because someone you loved and who loved you die, doesn’t mean there aren’t people who still love you. I had Jarvis. You have me. You have Abbie. You have Pepper. You’re not alone, Harley. You don’t have to suffer in a lab alone. You don’t have to go hungry because you can’t do anything to fix it.” 

Harley blinked. Tony had no idea what was going through his head, but the guilt on his face was obvious. He clearly had forgotten that Tony had been through much much more than Harley had. Had lost so much more than Harley had. That didn’t put Harley’s grief on a place below Tony’s, it was just to show that you can lose everything and still have something. 

Harley lost Peter. But he still had his family. Tony lost his family. But he still had everyone he needed. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Tony told him, “You’re hurt. You’re allowed to be.” 

“Still.” 

“So, are you gonna eat.” 

“I’m still not hungry.” 

Tony sighed, “Come on kid. I thought we just established that you should eat.” 

“I’m just not hungry.” 

“Peter would want you to eat.” 

“What if I don’t want to eat?” 

“But you have too,” Tony furrowed his brow, “I know that you don’t want too, but you’ve got to. You need to.” 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Harley was once again looking away from Tony, “And I don’t want to eat.” 

_ “Harley.”  _

“I just don’t want too,” He pushed the plate off the wires, and continued to play with it. 

“But you need to. For Peter.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

Tony’s brow furrowed deeper, “But it's true. Peter wouldn’t want you to not eat.” 

“Peter shouldn’t have left then.” 

“Don’t start that,” Tony’s voice felt hard again, “You know that wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“It would have changed things for  _ me,”  _ He was still not looking at Tony, “It would have changed so much for me.” 

“Harley, Peter would have disintegrated anyway.”

“We don’t know that.” 

“The snap was  _ random,” _ Tony was trying to keep his voice and tone as soft as he could, understanding the tough subject, “He would have died either way.” 

“We don’t-” 

“Yes,” he put a hand on his shoulder, “he would have. The only difference is that Peter would have disintegrated in front of-” 

He stumbled back as Harley pushed him off. Harley stood, his eyes angry and upset,  _ “Don’t.  _ Don’t you dare say he would have died in front of me. Don’t.” 

Tony blinked hard, “I’m sorry. But it’s the truth.”

“Get out,” his hand clenched into a fist, “Get out, Tony.” 

“Harley,” Tony stepped towards him, holding his hands up, “You know its the truth.” 

“I said get out.” 

“He died in my arms,” Tony took another step in front of him, his hands still out, “The only thing that would have changed is that he would have died in your arms.” 

“ _ Get. Out.”  _

“I’m not going to leave you alone. Not right now.” 

_ “GET OUT.”  _

“No,” Tony shook his head, “You shouldn’t have to be alone.” 

The hit came out of nowhere, “I SAID GET OUT.” 

Tony stumbled back hard, his hand flying to his cheek bone. Harley seemingly realized what he had done, stepping back away from Tony. He glanced at his hands, before looking back at Tony with wide eyes. He hit Tony. 

Tony couldn’t actually believe it. Harley didn’t like to hit people. And he had hit Tony. 

Tony turned on his heel and walked away. 

Harley wanted to be alone, and Tony couldn’t handle the feeling of pure sadness that came with seeing his son like this. 

  
  


_ A month after the snap  _

_ A Month After Harley finds Out  _

_ Anger _

  
  


“I’m sorry.” 

Tony startled, his eyes finding Harley, standing in the doorway of his lab. He blinked hard, stopping the welding torch, as his brow furrowed, “Kid… are you okay?” 

“No,” He shook his head, still standing awkwardly in the doorway, “I’m not.”

“Okay,” Tony put down the torch fully, standing up straighter, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Harley shook his head, eyes hollow, “No. Not about that.” 

Tony knew exactly what he was talking about. About Peter. He blinked again, brow furrowing harder, “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” 

“I’m sorry for being angry at you.”

“Harley,” Tony said hesitantly, motioning for his son to come in the room, “You don’t have to be sorry.” 

Harley dragged his feet into the lab, “Yes I do. I decked you.” 

“You did deck me,” Tony conceded to him, trying to think of how Jarvis had talked to him when he had found out about his parents, “And it wasn’t a very good thing to do. But you did it out of grief.” 

“Punching someone is never okay,” He shook his head, fidgeting like a child scorned, “And especially not when they’re trying to help.” 

“You’re right, kid,” Tony told him, meeting Harley’s eyes, “But I understand why you did it. I understand that you are angry, and hurt, and needed someone to take it out on.” 

“But I shouldn’t have taken it out on  _ anyone _ least of all you, dad.” 

Tony felt the air rush out of his lungs. How long had it been since his son had called him dad? How long had it been since Harley had opened himself up enough to call him dad? He blinked hard, taking in all of the statement. 

In moments of grief, he knew that people took things out on others. He knew that he had done that once or twice. He knew that. And he knew that it took him a lot longer than a month to realize that taking out anger on someone because of grief was not good. Wasn’t healthy. 

Tony looked at his son, “Maybe that's true-”

“It is.”

“But,” Tony didn’t blink at the interruption, “But you recognize that what you did wasn’t okay, and you apologized. That counts for something.” 

“I guess,” Harley kicked the ground looking like he wanted to say more, but was stopping himself. 

Tony stepped towards the couches, making a gesture for Harley to follow, “What else is eating you kid?” 

“Nothing.” 

“So everything then?” 

Harley stayed silent and Tony frowned, “You can talk to me. I’m not going to judge you for having emotions, Harley. If you’re angry, you can tell me. If you’re sad you can tell me.” 

“Just don’t be a pussy about it?” 

“No,” Tony told him earnestly, “You can totally be a pussy about it. Maybe not about dads leaving, but this, You can be the biggest pussy on earth.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Always.” 

“I just…” Harley trails off, his body deflating onto the seat, collapsing next to Tony, “I just am  _ so angry.”  _

Tony stayed silent, and Harley continued, “I’m so angry at  _ everything. _ I’m so angry at  _ Thanos.  _ I’m so angry at  _ you. _ I’m  _ so  _ angry at  _ Peter.” _

“Peter?” 

“He left,” Harley was shaking, looking at his clenched hands, “He fucking left. He said he was going to be back, and he wasn’t. He’s dead. He’s dead. I didn’t even get a goodbye kiss. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. He’s dead. He’s dead and I’m so so angry.” 

“But that’s not his fault,” Tony told him softly, “You know that.” 

“I do know that logically,” Harley wasn’t looking at him still, “Good, I know that logically. My brain registers it as true. But I’m just… so angry. I just..” 

“You just…?” 

“I just wish I had more time,” Harley’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet, “I wish I had more time with him.” 

“Oh, Harley,” Tony sighed, his heart breaking for his son once more, “I know. I know you wish you did.” 

Harley looked at him, tears in his eyes, but not falling- because Harley didn’t like crying, because he was like Tony, and that broke Tony’s heart- an expression of pure loss on his face, “I wish I could hold him again. I wish he was  _ here. _ And god, I’m so so so angry that he’s not. He was supposed to be  _ here.  _ He was supposed to be with me. And he’s not.” 

“And god,” Harley’s palms found a place digging into his eyes, “I’m so angry, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to not be angry because I’m so angry and it hurts so bad. Because Peter wouldn’t want me to be an asshole who decks the people he cares about, but I can’t help it. God I can’t help it. I’m so so so angry, Tony, I’m so angry.” 

“It’s okay to be angry.” 

“Not when it leads to me punching someone who isn’t at fault.” 

“Maybe not,” Tony told him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, “But It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to have wanted more. It’s okay to wish that you had more. Its okay to be so angry that you lash out. It’s okay to be angry Harley.” 

Harley sunk into his hand leaning onto Tony. Tony just held his son closer, “It’s going to be okay. I promise you, it’s gonna be okay.” 

“How do you know?” 

Tony paused, “I know because I’m going to fix it.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Tony told him honestly, “But I’m going to find a way.” 

“What if,” Harley cleared his throat, “What if you can’t save them.” 

“I have to.” 

“What if you can’t.”

“I have to, Harley."

Looking at his son, his angry, heartbroken, grieving son, Tony knew it was true. He had to find Thanos. He had to kick Thanos’s ass. He had to do something. He needed to save them. Everyone that had disappeared. He needed to save them. He had to do something. 

And he would. 


	2. Stage Two: Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles didn't like donning Peter's suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAHFJKBHEAKBHDASL
> 
> i'm so sorry that i didn't update last week. I'm in the process of moving houses, and its been,,, busy. Let this be known. but this chap was also hard to write. I'm gonna be back on my weekly updates as soon as I can btw! I may not update next weekend bc I'll be moving into the new house offically. 
> 
> This chapter is from Miles perspective and I really hope y'all like it. 
> 
> Trigger warnings:   
> Harley stops eating, but its only mentioned and never shown, and is only mentioned in the last part of the chapter. be careful please.

 

_ A Month after the snap  _

_ A Month After Harley finds Out  _

_ Denial  _

  
  


Miles didn’t like donning Peter’s suit. 

It just felt… wrong. It was  _ Peter’s _ suit. And one of the original ones as well! It felt like he was disgracing Peter. 

After all, Miles might have been Spider-Man but he wasn’t  _ Spider-Man. _ He had the powers. He was getting the training. He had been making a name for himself as the newest web slinger, but he wasn’t yet a Spider-Man. 

Well he was  _ a _ Spider-Man he just wasn’t  _ The _ Spider-Man. 

He wasn’t The Spider-Man in his own eyes. 

Peter had once told him, that the only way to really be a hero is to realize you  _ could be _ a hero. That you could save someone. That you could be  _ Spider-Man.  _

Miles wasn’t really sure he could. 

At least, he wasn’t sure he could be as good a Spider-Man as Peter.

He wasn’t sure he could be Peter. 

Cause that's what he felt like the world was asking of him. To don Peter’s mask, to be Peter Parker. To be the guy who has helped him grow and know what he has to do. To know how to save everyone. 

Spoiler alert, Miles didn’t know how to save anyone. 

After all, he couldn’t have saved his family let alone people who were in panic about everything thats has happened. And the more he tried to help them, the more he realized he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t save everyone. But he needed to. He needed to be Spider-Man. He needed to be a hero. He needed to save people. 

He slipped into the Stark Tower common room through the window, like he had seen Peter do before. He rested on the huanches of his feet as he took in the scene below him. He understood why Peter liked to rest on the ceiling more than he did the ground. 

He still didn’t feel like a hero. Or at least not a hero like peter. He slumped against the roof.

The door opened, and Miles startled, turning around to face a wide eyed Harley.  
  
"Peter?"    
  
It was a soft whisper, but Miles felt like it was piercing the entire world with the volume of it. He turned to Harley, his breath catching as he took in how  _ tired _ and  _ broken _ Harley Keener looked. Harley Keener, who Miles had never seen cry, who Miles had never seen look anything other then how he wanted people to see him. Harley, the guy who always had extra food in the fridge incase he swung by. Harley, the guy who volunteered to help him when he didn't know what to do. Harley, who gave him advice on how to talk to people. Harley, who loved his art more than anyone else but his uncle Aaron.    
  
Harley, who was now standing on the floor, looking up at him, his entire body shaking so hard, Miles wouldn't have needed perfect vision to see it. Harley, who's wide eyes were tearing up, his hand covering his mouth in utter shock.    
  
Harley who looked  _ broken. _

“Oh my god,” Harley’s voice was still just a whisper, “Peter- Is- is that you.” 

Miles dropped to the ground shaking his head, “Oh god! Harley I’m so sorry- you weren’t supposed to see the suit and-” 

“You’re,” Harley swallowed, the tears in his eyes about to break over, “You’re not Peter, are you?”

“No,” Miles stuttered, ripping the mask off his head feeling like he was just about to rip Harley’s heart out with the motion, “Harley, no, I’m-” 

“Miles,” His eyes studying his features, lingering on the mask in his hands, “Fuck, it's just you…” 

Miles pretended those words didn’t sting, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s,” He swallowed, looking away from the Spider-Man in front of him, “It's not your fault.”

“Still.” 

They stood there in a tense and awkward silence, Harley still shaking and Miles fidgeting with his hands. Everything was  _ off.  _ Miles wanted to flee, wanted to leave, just to make sure that Harley- Harley that seemed so so so destroyed and depressed- didn’t have to see him in the suit. 

Harley looked back at him, his eyes focusing on his face, obviously trying hard not to look anywhere at Peter’s old costume, “Miles…” 

“I’m sorry,” Miles told him, shaking his head, gripping the blue and red mask in his hand even tighter, “You- I didn’t mean to show up in the suit.” 

“Kid,” Harley shook his head, looking away again, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It just… startled me.” 

“Oh.” 

Harley was clearly blinking away tears, “You remind me of him, so much.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“That's not a bad thing, Miles,” his voice cracked, and his hand came to smooth at his shirt collar. Miles blinked, remembering the action being something that Harley used to do for Peter  whenever Harley or anyone else grabbed him by the collar. Harley’s hands were shaking, “You’re a hero. You’re a Spider-Man.” 

“Yeah,” Miles breathed out, feeling like shit. 

What kind of Spider-Man couldn’t help his friend? 

Probably the same kind of Spider-Man that put on his dead meantors suit just to provide the public with a focal point. Probably the same kind of Spider-Man that couldn’t save anyone in the end. Probably the same Spider-Man who had stayed home instead of fighting the final battle.

And yet here Harley was telling him he was a hero. A Spider-Man. 

Miles kind of wanted to cry. 

Harley seemingly didn't notice, his focus far far away, his voice portraying more heartbreak than Miles had ever known anyone to be able to feel, “You’re just like him when he first became Spider-Man you know? Trying your best and, and um, just doing your best to help people. That's what he did, you know? He helped people- and um, he’d, he’d be so proud of you-”

Harley cut himself off with a small stifled sob, his eyes catching on the mask that Miles was still clutching in his hand. Miles looked down at the mask and clutched it harder, holding onto it for dear life, “I’m, I’m so sorry for your loss, Harley.” 

“Don’t be. He’s not dead yet.” 

Miles’s head snapped back to the living part of his mentor duo, eyes wide, “What do you mean?” 

“He’s not,” He swallowed, blinking hard, trying to figure out his words, “He- Everyone who disappeared-  Matter can’t be created or destroyed. Even with ‘magic’ stones, you can’t ignore the basic principles of the universe right?” 

“Right,” Miles said slowly, nodding. 

“So, they can’t have all just… disappeared like that. They had to have gone somewhere.” 

“Harley,” Miles said slowly again, “They did go somewhere. They turned to ash.” 

Harley just blinked, “They have to be somewhere.” 

“Okay,” Miles told him, not knowing what to do with Harley’s clear and obvious dismissal of what was happening around them. 

“I’m going to save him.” 

Miles wasn’t sure that was possible.    
  
  


_ A Month after the snap  _

_ A Month and A Week After Harley finds Out  _

_ Denial  _

  
  


Miles worried about New York. 

He worried about Queens. 

He worried about Staten Island. 

He worried about the Bronx. 

He worried about Brooklyn. 

Everything about New York worried him. The half empty streets. The dead atmosphere of the city. Nothing was how it was supposed to be, and it hurt Miles to see it like this. This entire event hurt Miles. 

His mom was gone. So was his uncle Aaron. And his dad. 

They were all gone. 

Like the citizens of New York City, he had no one. 

He however, was lucky. He at least had Abbie, his best friend, and Tony, a mentor of sorts, and a roof over his head. Sure, Stark Tower wasn’t home, but it was better than his empty apartment. 

The one thing bad about Stark Tower was that you could see every part of New York from it. You could see the emptiness that haunted the city completely. It bothered him. 

What bothered him more was inside the tower itself though. 

The tomb of memory and denial that Harley Keener was living in. 

He pressed his face against the glass of the door into Harley’s lab. Harley was sitting at Peter’s desk, staring at it, transfixed on the ring that he wasn’t supposed to know about. The ring that he had never gotten to wear. 

Something long forgotten surfaced to the front of his mind. To be honest, the memory hit him like a tidal wave.   


 

_ “Hey, If you don’t mind telling me, what do you like about this Harley guy, anyway?”  _

_ They were sitting on top of the Empire state building, observing New York City at night, on the watch for some sort of crime. Really, they both were just trying to enjoy the still warm nights of summer fading into fall. Masks up and an order of Mickey D’s in between them _

_ Peter raised an eyebrow at him, swallowing a fry, “What do you mean?”  _

_ “Well,” Miles shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, “From what I’ve heard in training, he’s kinda energy personified. And Spider Senses… are kind of overwhelming? Like I can’t really spend large amounts of time around people without getting exhausted. So how do you date someone who’s energy personified?” _

_ “Miles,” Peter laughed, his head throwing back, “You heard all of that from people who don’t really  _ know  _ Harley- because you haven’t heard any of that from Tony right?”  _

_ “I haven’t really talked to Tony a lot,” He admitted.  _

_ “Well, that explains it,” Peter smiled at him, “You’re right about the sensory thing. Spider-Senses put everything on overdrive. But Harley doesn’t affect Spider-Senses.”  _

_ Miles blinked, confused at what Peter was saying, “What do you mean?”  _

_ “I mean,” Peter’s eyes scanned the area, focusing on Stark Tower in the distance, a soft and found smile on his face, “That Harley has always been apart of me. He’s just always there. And I love him for it. He’s incredibly caring, and always searches for ways to help. He’s the one that figured out that Spidey-Senses heightened all the senses and makes the norepinephrine in our brains to go into overdrive, and that we get overwhelmed by sensory, you know? He’s pretty perfect like that.”  _

_ “If he’s so perfect why does everyone at the compound talk about him like he might be a threat or something?”  _

_ “Harley is,” Peter paused, looking for words, “Harley is very much a protector. The other avengers hurt people he cared about, so when he got his chance, he made sure that they could never hurt them again. And he told them that. He made sure they knew he was gonna come for them if they hurt someone he cares about again.”  _

_ “What do you mean?” Miles raised a brow, “Isn’t he just a normal guy?”  _

_ Peter laughed, clearly amused, “Yeah, he’s pretty normal- except for you know, the genius intellect, and the costume made armor, and the ability to hack into every network on the face of this earth.”  _

_ “So he’s a super genius?”  _

_ “Nah,” Peter smiled off into the distance once again, “Just a regular genius.”  _

_ “He sounds nicer when you talk about him,” Miles admitted, looking at his mentor with sheepish eyes.  _

_ “He is nicer,” Peter sighed, every inch of him screaming in love, “He’s one of the nicest people I know. You just have to  _ know  _ him more than he lets you know him.”  _

_ “Would he be nice to me?”  _

_ “He’d love you,” Peter grinned at him, attention back on the world around him, “He loves anyone with a sense of humor and a good head on their shoulders.”  _

_ “Really?”  _

_ Peter huffed out a laugh, the fact that Miles was so clearly just a kid that wanted to impress the adults coming out so clearly in this conversation, “Yeah. Unless your mean to his sister.” _

_ “Abbie?” He raised his brow again, “Isn’t she the one that I met for a brief second when I was meeting with the rest of Avengers? The one who pointed at me?”  _

_ “Yeah,” Peter laughed, “She’s a little bit excited to have someone she can pester that's not Lila.”  _

_ “Lila is Sparrow, right?” Miles asked, taking a sip from his drink, “I’m still trying to learn everyone’s names.”  _

_ “Yeah, Lila is Sparrow,” Peter nodded again, “Abbie is her ‘girl in the chair’ so to speak. She’s very determined to be in the super hero business.”  _

_ “I can tell,” Miles grinned at the memory of the girl bounding up to him, pointing directly at him and declaring they would be friends, before bounding after Lila, “So does Harley want to get into the superhero game?”  _

_ Peter frowned at the skyline, “He doesn’t.”  _

_ “Is that,” Miles felt awkward asking it, but his curiosity won out, “Is that a bad thing?”  _

_ “No,” Peter sighed, “It was just hard for him to come to terms with for a long time. The armor that he made for himself is called Redemption Armor Mach Ten, and it’s only seen the light of day five or six times. He recently- like as of may of this year- decided that he’s only gonna use it if Tony dies or it’s a last case scenario.”  _

_ “Why?”  _

_ “He’s been through some stuff,” Peter looked conflicted, “Maybe he’ll tell you about it one day. But something bad happened and it made him reevaluate if he really wanted the armor.”  _

_ “Oh,” Miles nodded, unsatisfied with the answer but understood that what ever had happened was a sensitive topic, “He sounds better when you talk about him- er- Versus what others have told me.” ” _

_ “Yeah,” Peter smiled again, “I really missed him this summer.”  _

_ “Hey, at least we got back to civilization,” He joked, “That training was rough!”  _

_ “The  _ entire  _ summer at the avengers compound was no joke!”  _

_ “I’m still sore!” _

_ “But hey,” Peter snorted, “We’re ‘one step closer to becoming avengers!’ Or something.”  _

_ Miles laughed at the bad Captain Marvel impression, “Yeah, yeah, then you can go on and be an  _ actual _ superhero and I an take over the friendly neighborhood spider-man gig.”  _

_ “Mhmm,” Peter hummed, taking another bite of his food, “Then I’ll be an actual superhero. Or something.” _

_ They sat in silence for a few minutes, Peter looking off in the distance at Stark Tower. He looked discontent, completely different than how light hearted he had been merely a few seconds ago.  _

_ “Miles?”  _

_ “Yeah?”  _

_ “If something ever happens to me,” Peter paused on his words, seemingly thinking of what to say, “If something bad ever happens to me while I’m on duty- or off- I need you to do something for me.”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “I need you to make sure Harley is going to be okay,” Peter continued, his voice going small, “He means the entire world to me, and even when I’m dead and gone, I need him to be okay.”  _

_ “Yeah,” Miles felt out of place, with all of the emotions Peter’s voice was conveying, “Of course. I promise.”  _

 

Miles blinked hard. 

He had forgotten about that. 

Forgotten about making that promise to Peter. The promise to make sure Harley was going to be okay. 

Looking out over his friend and mentor’s boyfriend, Miles felt like he had failed him. Had failed Peter in every way possible. 

Because he wasn’t helping Harley. He didn’t know  _ how _ to help Harley, not in any useful capacity. He couldn’t get Harley to eat, couldn’t get Harley to sleep. From where Miles was standing, it was like Harley was withering away completely. 

And that kind of broke Miles. 

He was supposed to look out for Harley, and yet here he was unable to get him to focus on anything but his insane theory of a parallel universe created by the reality stone. He couldn’t get Harley to do anything but sit in his lab and brainstorm things. 

He couldn’t get Harley to get his head above the waters of grief. 

And he felt like a failure. 

To Harley. 

To Peter.    
  


 

_ A Month after the snap  _

_ A Month and Two Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Denial  _

  
  


“Good god, Peter,” Harley was muttering to himself inside the lab, “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

Miles pressed himself against the door of Harley’s lab. 

He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on Harley’s ramblings, but that’s what ended up happening. He was listening to a broken Harley Keener talk to himself in the middle of the lab. 

Harley continued on, oblivious to the boy at the door, “I don’t know how to fix this, but I have to. And there’s probably a way to. You’re not really gone, because you’re never  _ really  _ gone. You’re out there. Somewhere. You just have to be. You’re probably in a parallel universe that reminds you of a fever dream.” 

“Fever dreams,” Harley chuckled to himself, and Miles felt himself inhale, “That’s what I’ve been having lately, I think. Fever dreams. About the world around me.” 

“You know, sometimes I look up and I see you, but it’s not you. It's too picturesque to be you,” Harley looked up at the ceiling, and Miles finally realized what he was playing with. The ring. He was playing with the ring and talking to Peter. Wherever Peter was. 

Miles felt himself growing more and more concerned, as Harley glanced back down at the ring, “Hey… Pete.. do you remember our first real fight?” 

There was no answer of course, but Miles felt himself filling in the blank in his mind anyway. Peter would have made some sort of joke by now. But Peter wasn’t here. This was just a broken boy, rambling more to himself than to others. 

“It was raining,” Harley continued, a small smile on his face and sadness in his eyes, “It was raining and you had just gotten discharged from the hospital. Cause of Doc Ock, remember? You threw me out of the way, and had gotten hurt pretty badly. We had thought you weren’t going to pull through. Me and May spent the entire night pacing up and down the halls of the hospital wing.” 

Miles hadn’t ever heard of this. As far as he knew, almost every fight Peter had been in had ended with minor injuries, never something Major. He once again felt like he was intruding. Harley just continued on. 

“We were so worried,” His voice broke, but he carried on like he didn’t notice the sadness in his own voice, “We were so so worried. And you came out of there just fine. But I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine at all. Aunt May had gone to bed, and I had left your apartment for the roof of the Tower. Nothing to protect me from the rain. And then you swung to it, in your civvies. No matter how many times we told you not too, you always came around without the Spider-Man suit.” 

Harley’s laugh was soft and mournful, “Normally I would just find it charming, but I had been so upset. You offered me your jacket and I refused it. I think that's when you realized something was wrong- because I never refuse your jackets. I love wearing them, because they’re just like you. Warm. Dependable. Good. Coffee and Vanilla.” 

“And we started to argue,” Harley looked up again, the movement startling Miles a little bit. Something about listening to Harley talk was entrancing. Sad and so reminiscent of everything Peter had been, “Because I thought it was stupid that you pushed me out of the way. I had armor on, and you still pushed me out of the way. I felt like everything was slipping out of my hands, watching you get hurt like that. And we just stood there at two thirty in the morning yelling our heads off, because you were always the hero. Because you wouldn’t let me get hurt even though me getting hurt would stop you for getting hurt.” 

Harley laughed again, sniffling at the memory, “It was so stupid in retrospect. Because I would have done the same damn thing. But I was so angry and scared that I stood up, and I started to walk away, screaming that I couldn't do this- I told you to leave me the fuck alone.” 

“And you,” Miles felt himself inhale sharply. He was definitely listening to something that meant a lot to Harley, definitely intruding on his moment, “And you just grabbed my hand and told me that you would  _ never  _ leave me alone. You asked me if I remembered that night with the fireworks- the one where we had been dancing on the roof when we should have been indoors. The first time we said I love you properly, without either of us being hurt.” 

“I still remember what you said,” Harley smiled at the ring, “You said, ‘Every time I look at you, it's like the first time. God, love, you are the best thing that's ever been mine.’ And I just realized how much I truly needed you. Because you were the best thing that had ever been mine, and I was the best thing that had ever been yours.” 

Harley laughed once more, watery smile widening, “We were each others and that was enough. It was always enough for us. No matter what we went through after that, as long as we had each other we were good enough. No matter if I flirted with other boys to get your attention, or if you forgot date night for the sake of science, it didn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, you were mine, and I was yours.” 

Harley’s smile was soft and sad, and more than a little sweet. Miles once again got the overwhelming feeling to leave, when Harley whispered out, “I’m going to say yes. When you come back, I’m going to say yes. And we’re not going to wait till after college. I’m tired of playing the waiting game. Because you’re the best thing that's ever been mine, Peter. And I love you, so so much.” 

“I’ll get you back,” Harley looked up again, “I’ll fix this.” 

Miles slipped away from the door, feeling like a horrible person for listening to all of that. For listening to all of Harley’s love and admiration for Peter Parker to spill out. He sighed at the end of the hallway.

He really hoped Harley could fix this, because if he couldn’t… Miles was sure it would break him.   
  
  
  


_ Two Months after the snap  _

_ A Month and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Denial  _

  
  


“Miles?” 

Miles looked up from his sketchbook, glancing at Abbie’s petite form in the doorway. He sat up straighter at the look on her face, “Yeah?” 

“I’m worried,” She stepped into the room, plopping herself on the bed with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, “I’m worried about my brother.” 

“I am too,” Miles admitted, “He’s been…” 

“In a bad place?” 

“In a place worse than bad.” 

Abbie ran a hand over her face, pushing her glasses onto the bed next to her, “I don’t know how to help him.” 

“I don’t think we can help him,” He said carefully, turning to her, “I mean, we can try but, let's be honest here, Abbie. He doesn’t exactly want our help.” 

“Right,” Abbie nodded, before realizing what she had just agreed with and shook her head, “No, not right. It doesn’t matter if he wants our help or not we should help him.”

Miles stood, moving to sit next to her on the bed, “As much as I agree… I think we need to be careful about this.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Miles thought back to the ramble he had walked in on a week ago, “That Harley is trying his best to fix this and everything he can. Maybe its just his way of coping.” 

Abbie blinked at him, “Right, but coping shouldn’t mean that you are avoiding taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thats a big issue,” Miles amended, before sighing again, “I just don’t know how we can help.” 

“By being there I guess.” 

“But how do we do that without pushing him further away is the real question.” 

“I mean,” Abbie raised a brow, “I don’t think that’s a big issue.” 

Miles shook his head, not looking her in the eyes, “Abbie, let's be honest here. Neither of us know how to deal with grief. We’re just kids and everything I’ve read has said that you can push someone more into grief if you aren’t helping them in the correct way.” 

“That won’t be an issue though.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“No, but Harley’s my brother. I think I would know how to help him.” 

“Oh come on,” Miles snorted, shooting her a dry look, “Half the time  _ Peter,  _ his literal soulmate, didn’t know how to help him when he got in this mindset.” 

“Peter may be his soulmate,” Abbie grinned at him, “But I’m his little sister.” 

“So?” 

“Ah yes, you’re an only child,” Abbie sat up, “Basically, me and Harley are the  _ ideal _ set of kids. Because our mom was busy trying to make sure we could eat when I was younger, Harley really had to step up when our dad left and because of that we got really close. We still fight and bicker and shit, but at the end of the day we’ve always been close. So if anyone can convince him to take care of himself, it's me.” 

“I am taking care of myself,” The door opened to reveal Harley, looking tired and sickly, “I’m doing much better than you guys think I am. I’ve almost cracked the truth.” 

Abbie stood, her face a mix of confusion and worry, “Oh really now?” 

“Yeah,” Harley nodded, looking faint, like he could collapse in any moment, “If I could just get everything in place, then I could fix this.”

Miles and Abbie shared a look. Miles spoke up, “Um, Harley. Are you sure that you’re okay?” 

“Of course.” 

“Are you just saying that,” Abbie seemed to think on her words, “Are you just saying that so you can go back to not taking care of yourself at all and breaking down at random moments?” 

“I’m not just saying that,” Harley ran a hand through his messy hair, and it was only then Miles noticed the ring on his finger. He must have taken to wearing it, maybe to try to feel closer to Peter. Harley continued, “I’m being honest.” 

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” Miles stood, stepping towards him, “You should sit down.” 

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” Abbie told him, “You’re really not.” 

“I’m  _ fine.”  _

“You’re lying.” 

Miles watched the back in forth between the siblings. Harley blinked back, “Abbie, I promise I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure you’re not lying to me?” 

“No, I’m not,” Harley turned back to the door, leaning against the frame for a second, “I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

With that Harley walked away. Abbie shot Miles a concerned look, “I think I’m going after him.” 

“Yeah,” Miles nodded at her, “That may be a good idea.” 

And with that, Miles was left alone with his concern and his thoughts. 

  
  


_ Two Months after the snap  _

_ Two Months After Harley finds Out  _

_ Denial  _

  
  


“...We need to do something,” Tony was talking softly with Abbie when Miles walked in the room. 

“About what?” He stationed himself in the chair next to abbie’s, “Anything new?” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

Abbie shot a glare at her dad, “No, nothings new.” 

“Yes, something is new,” Tony responded with a look of his own, “We’re talking about Harley.” 

“Oh.” 

“Exactly,” Abbie muttered, crossing her arms, “Nothing new.” 

“Nothing new except the fact he’s not eating.” 

“He’s not eating?” Miles leaned forward, his brow furrowing, “How long has that been going on?” 

“I’m not sure,” Tony admitted, shooting a look at Abbie who seemed more annoyed than anything. 

Abbie huffed, “He just started not eating. It's really not a new thing he skips meals all the time.” 

“Right,” Miles said slowly, raising a brow at his friend, “But is this really what he should be doing when he’s in this state?” 

“No,” Abbie deflated, muttering, “I just don’t know what to do.” 

“Getting him to take care of himself,” Tony told the two of them, “Should be our priority number one.” 

“No,” Harley’s voice echoed around the room, bitterness laced into the words, “You should be focusing on how to get everybody back. That should be your priority number one.” 

Tony blinked at his son, standing up as Harley walked in the room, “Kid-”

“All of are effort should be going to finding a way to get them back,” Harley kept talking, acting like he hadn’t heard Tony, “We should be focusing on finding Thanos and taking back the reality stone.” 

‘We don’t know if that will work,” Tony told him, coming to stand near Harley, “And we need to talk.” 

“About?” 

“How you’re not eating,” Abbies voice was louder than she probably intended, “Or sleeping. Or doing anything but meticulously planning about something we don’t know about.” 

Harley look at his sister, “Abigail, don’t start.” 

“Why not?” Miles flinched at the sharpness in Abbie’s voice. Whatever weird thing was going on between the siblings, Miles was not enjoying the snappiness between them, “Why not expose the fact that you’re slowly killing yourself?”

“I am not-” 

“You’re literally wasting away!” 

“I don’t care,” Harley was shaking, his entire body rattling, like the breath in his lungs, “I don’t care. I just want to  _ fix  _ this.” 

“Harley-” 

“Tony,” Harley’s voice was a warning bell, “I don’t care.” 

Abbie stepped towards her brother, “But you need to take care of yourself!”

“I don’t care!” Harley was shaking his head, “You guys don’t get it! He can’t be gone!  _ They _ can’t be gone! None of them! And if I could just figure out where they are then we could figure out a way to bring them back! If we could just-”  

“Harley,” Tony’s voice was soft and his brow furrowed, “We don’t know if there’s a way to bring them back.” 

“There has to be one!” 

Tony shook his head again, “There might be one. But you  _ can’t _ waste away trying to find it.” 

“But I  _ need _ to find it,” Harley’s voice was shaking, “I need to find it. I need to find a way to bring them back- to bring  _ him _ back!” 

Miles suddenly understood. 

He understood Harley Keener. He understood what Harley Keener needed. 

He stepped forward, taking Harleys hand in one smooth moment, “But what happens if when he gets back he sees you like this?” 

The room went silent, Harley’s wide eyes searching for what Miles ment. Miles took a breath, “Do you think, that if Peter gets back, he’s going to be happy seeing you like this? Seeing you so broken down and destroyed?” 

“Miles-” 

Abbie held her hand up, to stop Tony from talking to him. Miles shot her a grateful look, before turning his attention back to the shaking Harley. 

“He would be so upset to see you like this,” Miles told him, “To see you not sleeping. To see you not eating. To see you hurting. It would kill him, and you know that. He loved you, so so much, Harley. He loved you more than words can describe, and you know that. You know he loved you. So please, you have to take care of yourself.” 

“I need to-” Harley was choking on his own words, “I need to get him back.” 

Miles shook his head, “But we don’t know if you can get him back. If  _ any  _ of us will get our loved ones back. But I know one thing. I know that if my dad was looking down at me from heaven, he wouldn’t want me to waste away. He would want me to keep eating, and to keep sleeping, and do things to take care of myself. And Peter would want you to take care of yourself too, Harley.” 

“Peter once asked me,” Miles swallowed, his eyes stinging, “He once asked me to look after you if he ever died. If something every happened to him. And I’m so sorry, that I haven’t been able to help you, to keep my word to him. But Harley, you need to take care of yourself. You can’t throw yourself into this idea of another world where Peter is alive. You need to focus on the here and now. You once told me we don’t have time to think about the what if’s. We don’t have time to think about  _ what if Peter was alive,  _  because we need to be thinking about how to keep the world we’re living in alive.”

“I need him back,” Harley’s voice was a whisper, and he allowed Miles to pull him into a hug, “I need him back.” 

“I know you do,” Miles assured the only other mentor figure he had ever known, “But killing yourself with what if’s won't bring him back.” 

“I need him back,” Harley was crying, Miles realized, “I need him back. I just want him back.” 

“I know.” 

Miles understood. 

He understood how deeply Harley and Peter truly felt for each other. How good they were for each other. He understood why Peter had asked him to look after Harley. Peter had known this would happen. Had known that if he died, Harley would go through so much trying to bring him back even if he couldn’t be brought back.

It broke Miles’ heart. 

Not as much though, when Harley heaved a sob and choked out, “I just want my Peter back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG THANK YOU TO EMRY FOR BETAING AHJFKLAJEL
> 
> big not thank you to emry for calling my ass out on the taylor swift reference. 
> 
> abjfabhdjsa please tell me what you think!!


	3. Stage Three: Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think God can bring him back?” 
> 
> Matt looked startled at the question, but his face relaxed and he turned into the boys general direction, “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JSDKBFHJASLB
> 
> this is 
> 
> a really really bad chapter- like out of everything ive ever written for Marvel, this is the worst and im really sorry about it? I know my writing quality is usually better, and I'm really sorry to disappoint everyone. When I originally got the idea i was pretty hesitant and I really should have figured somthing else out bc this is,,, not good. I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry if this isn't good. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter deals heavily with religion, so fair warning about that. Harley is an atheist, but was raised baptist and is in a catholic church- all written by someone who is heavily agnostic and hasnt /gone/ to church in a solid long time (We go fro christmas and easter ish except not really)

_ Two Months after the snap  _

_ Two Months and A Week After Harley finds Out  _

_ Bargaining _

  
  


Father Thomas had noticed that Matthew Murdock had spent every day since the decimation at the church. He had spent every single day at the church alone, and in mourning. Seemingly his partner in crime- well fighting or defending it- Franklin Nelson had been one of the many who had died. Father Thomas  genuinely didn’t know how hard that must be for the blind man. 

Every Morning, at the break of dawn, Matt would make his ways into the pews of the church. He would eat the food that the Fathers passed out to those who were seeking refuge within the walls of God, accepting lunch and dinner gratefully. His daily routine consisted of sitting in silence unless someone- usually one of the younger kids who had been displaced by the decimation- came to him to chat. He would always smile and talk to them with all the charm that Father Thomas knew Matthew had held when he was participating in everyday life. Then every night, he would slip away, into the quiet darkness. Father Thomas had learnt that it was best not to question what Matthew Murdock did in the night. 

What did peak at his curiosity, though, was when Matt came in on Saturday morning, guided by a boy on the shorter side. 

The boy was small, skinny. His eyes had dark bags under them, and looked as though death was a doorway away. Father Thomas couldn’t help the grimace. He’d seen far to many people with that same exact look in the past few months. To many sad eyes and broken hearts. The boys messy long blond hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but that didn’t stop a few strands from escaping onto his face. His eyes were scanning the church, as if there was something that he was looking for. 

Father Thomas had a gut feeling that whatever it was, he wouldn’t find it here. 

Matt didn’t seem to mind the silence from his companion, talking with the charm dialed up to an eleven. The boy just kept helping him walk forward, until Matt motioned around them, “Look for an empty pew, kid.” 

The boy just nodded, guiding the both of them to the entrance of a pew. The two sat down and Matt talked softly, just loud enough for Father Thomas to hear from the pew, “This is where I’ve been every day when I’m not helping you guys get things in order.” 

“A church?” The boy’s voice was cracking from what Father Thomas could tell was disuse, “I didn’t take you for the type, to be honest.” 

“I’ve gotten that a lot,” Matt laughed good naturedly, “Mainly from people who don’t know me and your dad, but who is he to judge?” 

The boy’s mouth cracked up but he didn’t fully smile, “Dad can’t judge anyone.” 

“Mhm,” Matt hummed at him, “Especially when he himself kneels by the cross every night.”

“He’s very hypocritical like that.” 

“It's not his fault you know.” 

“I recognize that now,” The boys voice was soft and his eyes scanned the room again, and fell upon a young couple in the pews holding hands, “I know it wasn’t his fault.” 

“Yet..?” 

“Yet nothing,” The boy looked back at his companion, “I know it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Thanos’s. I promise.” 

Matt’s face turned in the direction of his, “Grief is a hard motivator.” 

“Maybe so.” 

The two of them sat in silence, and the boy’s eyes found the stained glass window. Father Thomas didn’t need to wonder which window he was staring at. 

In the brightly colored window, a scene of Jesus rising from the dead stared back at the church. 

“Do you think God can bring him back?” 

Matt looked startled at the question, but his face relaxed and he turned into the boys general direction, “I don’t know.”

The boy’s eyes never left the window. 

  
  
  


_ Two Months after the snap  _

_ Two Months and Two Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Bargaining  _

 

 

At dawn, the church was often painted with colored light, pouring in from the stained glass windows. It was one of Father Thomas’s favorite times of day. It was also one of the only times that he would actively man the confessional. These days, those who came to church were those in need. Those who couldn’t take care of themselves after the death of half the world. Those who needed help. It was nice to have something that reminded him of the time before. 

The time when the world was okay.

He slid into the booth, quietly, to find that someone was already waiting for him, “Forgive me father I have sinned,” the boy laughed a bit, “My last confession was never. I’ve never done this before.” 

“I genuinely don’t know what to say,” The boy on the other side of the screen’s voice was sad and soft, “Because I think I’ve sinned in the worse way. I think I sinned by being angry.” 

Father Thomas nodded at his words, “Wrath is often a hard thing to overcome.” 

“I’m so angry,” The boy continued, “At everything. At Thanos- er, the person who caused this. For a long time I was angry at my dad. And I’m still so angry at him. At Peter, because he  _ left _ and then  _ died.  _ Is it fucked up to be angry with someone who’s gone?” 

“No,” Father Thomas assured him, “Anger is a stage of grief.” 

“Then is it bad I see him everywhere I go?” 

The boy continued before Father Thomas could say anything, “Is it bad that sometimes, when I’m about to fall asleep I see his face on the pillow next to mine, just like it had been months ago? That I can’t close my eyes because he’s burned into the back of my eyelids? Is it bad that I can’t bring myself to sleep, because one time I stayed awake so long that I dreamt with my eyes open that he was still here? To miss him so much and still be angry?” 

“And I recognize,” he continued, again not letting Father Thomas get a word in, “That he would want me to take care of myself. I know that he would want that. I know he would want me to be okay. But how can I even attempt to take care of myself when he’s gone? When my Peter is dead?” 

He took a shaky breath, “When Peter- my Peter, my amazing Peter, who had always held me when I was sad, who never questioned my boundaries, who always laughed at my jokes, and, and, and just-” He took a deep breath, his voice shaking, “And just wiped away the motor oil on my face. Who used to hold me on top of the roof of the tower and laugh when I started complaining about the cold. My Peter, who made me watch Emperor’s New Groove six times after I harassed him with llamas. My amazing Peter.” 

“My peter,” his voice cracked, and Father Thomas could feel the broken heart radiating off the boy, “My Peter who’s  _ gone. _ Ain’t that a bite? He’s  _ gone. _ ” 

He let out a sob, something small but loud and powerful all the same, “I don’t even know what I’m doing here in a church.” 

“I’m not a believer,” He whimpered, sniffling harshly, “I’m not a believer and neither was Peter. Hell the only person I’ve ever known to truly be a believe was my mom and shes  _ dead.”  _

Father Thomas took a breath. This was always the worst part after tragedies. Those who weren’t of faith breaking down and questioning the Lord's work even more. It always hurt him a little bit on the inside. 

He let out a watery laugh, once again stopping Father Thomas from saying anything, “Why is it that the good people die? Why is it that my mom- one of the best women in the world- had to die when I was barely fifteen, from cancer? Why is it that Peter- god, Peter, a hero, a real fucking hero- had to die? I just don’t understand.” 

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Father Thomas could tell he was shaking, “I don’t know why I came back to a fucking church. I don’t know.” 

He took a deep deep breath, his breathing still shaking, “I just want him back.” 

“I just want him back,” His voice was shaking and shaking and shaking, and Father Thomas felt so bad for him, “I just want him back.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

The boy bolted from the booth, his breath uneven and body shaking. 

  
  


_ Three Months after the snap  _

_ Two Month and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Bargaining  _

  
  


“Dear Heavenly Father,” The boy in front of the altar was kneeling, unaware of Father Thomas standing at the doors of the steeple, “I don’t know how to start these things.”

Father Thomas almost wanted to laugh at that, and he would have, if it hadn’t been for the destroyed voice that the boy had. He stayed silent and the boy continued, “I was never very religious. Mom… she went to church every sunday, put a blessing over every meal, and was genuinely a good christian. A true believer.” 

“However,” He let out a breathy chuckle, “I was never a really true believer. I only went to church when mom forced me to, and even now I feel insane. I don’t really get this religion stuff.” 

He took a deep breath, “My mom used to say it was a comfort. Knowing that someone was out there, looking out for us. Taking care of us. I think she just wanted to know that someone still cared.”

“And to be honest,” He shook a thought out of his head, “I just don’t believe. But mom did. And me and Peter, we never talked about it, but I know he believed. In you. In God. And I just, God I have to wonder if he’s up there with you? If he’s in heaven. If anyone deserves it, its him.” 

The boy laughed again, his voice shaky, “Its so funny. How good he is. He was always the better of the two of us.  I was anything but- I’m loud, angry. A bit of an asshole. Stubborn. And Peter was all of those things but he was also so so so good. He was amazing.” 

“He used to do this thing, when he was out fighting, where he would send me videos of himself, helping people,” Father Thomas raised a brow. Fighting? This boy had talked about this Peter boy every time he had come into the church since the first time with Matthew, and he had never mentioned him being a fighter, “And they were always so good to see. Because he would always send it when he had been out for too long and he knew it. It was like his get out of jail free card. He doesn’t- didn’t- know but I saved every single one of those videos.” 

“Every single one of them,” He repeated himself, “I watch them when I need to fall asleep these days. All of the videos with him in it, I just watch them for hours until I finally fall asleep. And it helps. In the moment it helps. But then I dream of him and it's bad. Its him dying, every time. Him dying alone, without knowing that I was going to say yes. Without knowing that I was going to accept.” 

For a moment, just a brief second, Father Thomas found himself wondering about accepting what. The light glistened off a ring on the boys finger. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ The boy had lost his fiance. This boy had lost the love of his life. 

“I see him every day,” He whispers, so quiet that Father Thomas almost couldn’t hear it, “I see him in everything I do. I catch myself smoothing out my shirt collar, or licking my lips, things he used to do. I catch myself playing with my hands more often than not. I play with my hair when I’m tired now. Everything I do, Peter did. I didn’t realise how much he truly rubbed off on me, but now that he’s gone, everything I do is painful. It’s Peter. Everything I do is Peter.” 

He glanced up at the windows, and Father Thomas knew he was looking at the Lord Jesus being resurrected, “So I beg you. I beg you that you bring him back. I’ll give you anything- everything. I’ll do anything so just… please bring him back.”

“I’ll do anything. I’ll trade places with him if that's what it takes. Just please. Bring him back.” 

Father Thomas slipped away from the door. 

He loved God. God was merciful and kind in so many ways. But he didn’t bring back the dead just for one boy, no matter how much the boy missed his fiance. This was his least favorite part of this job. The grief of losing a loved one. 

He walked towards another part of the grounds. 

He needed some air.

  
  


_ Three Months after the snap  _

_ Three Months After Harley finds Out  _

_ Bargaining  _

  
  


Father Thomas sat down next to the boy who had been visiting with Matthew fairly often. Today he was alone, Matt sitting on the other side of the church talking to the other regular attendants. After what he has walked into a week ago, when the boy had been having a moment with God, he had wanted to talk to him. 

He sat down next to the boy on the pew. 

“Father Thomas,” the boy spoke without looking at him. 

He blinked, “You know my name?” 

“Matt likes to talk about all the priests here,” the boy shrugged, “I think he finds y’all to be his friends.” 

“We are his friends,” Father Thomas smiled at that, “Family, really. It’s always nice to see him.” 

“Yeah.” 

Father Thomas looked at the stained glass window, “That’s a portrait of Jesus rising up from the dead.” 

“I figured,” The boy said, “My mom used to tell the story every Easter.” 

“Ah.” 

“Father,” He hesitated, “Do you think that God will allow for the dead to come back?”

“Who did you loose, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Peter. My... my everything, really.” 

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” Father Thomas shook his head softly, “But I don’t think that God can bring them all back.”

“That’s not fair.”

“My boy,” Father Thomas sighed, “Life is hard. It is not fair and it is rough. But you have to remember, you are not alone. God is watching and is waiting for you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your boy, Peter,” He considered his words slowly, “He’s up there with God. They’re both watching over you, making sure that you’re okay. One day, when your time is right, you can join them. When you get to heaven they’ll be there for you.” 

“Oh.” 

Father Thomas nodded, “Just have courage.” 

“I don’t know how to have courage.” 

“We all have courage.” 

“Not me. Not anymore.” 

“Are you sure that you don’t have courage?” 

“Not anymore.” 

Father Thomas sighed, shaking his head, “What’s your name?” 

“Harley Parker,” his voice was soft, “My name was supposed to be Harley Parker.”

“Oh,” Father Thomas didn’t know what to say, feeling like nothing he could say.

Harley just looked at him with tears welling in his eyes with tears that wouldn’t be shed. His face was blank and cold, but didn’t say anything else, just moved away from the pew and walked out the church. Father Thomas watched him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry this isnt good and I /promise/ next week will be better. 
> 
> Thank you to Emry for beta reading and you can hit me up @ lovleylangst on tumblr. 
> 
> Please leave a comment but go easy bc i know this chapter is short and bad.


	4. Stage Four: Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abbie didn't understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall im BIG love with this chapter
> 
> maybe bc i big love harley and abbie's sibling bond??? theyre like Thor and Loki but less Thor and Loki tbh
> 
> That being said tho,
> 
> TW: 
> 
> mentions of not eating  
> mentions of not sleeping  
> Mentions of getting sick because of depression

_ Three Months after the snap  _

_ Three Months and A Week After Harley finds Out  _

_ Depression _

 

Abbie stared at her phone. 

She hadn’t been on it much since the snap. It had been three months or so since it, and she was still trying her best to help her dad and Miles and everyone she can, get back on their feet. No time to really think about phones or friends. 

Her background was a photo of Lila Barton and Jesse Thompson, grinning at her over some matcha ice cream down in a dinner somewhere in queens. The photo was light, filtering in a way that made Abbie think of summer days. Probably because it had been a summer day. 

It wasn’t summer anymore. And she had no time to be looking at a picture on her phone. 

She had a brother to drag out of his room.

She loved Harley with all of her heart, but the boy needed to get out of that dark closed off space. It wasn’t good for him to be wallowing in his room, especially now. 

He hadn’t gotten out of there since he had gotten back from the church a week ago. And if Abbie hadn’t known better she would think her brother was dead. But Abbie did know better, she knew better and more importantly, she knew her brother. Plus the fact that Friday was constantly monitoring the status of everyone in the entire tower helped. 

Harley just hadn’t gotten out of his room in a week. A solid week in total isolation. 

She was pretty sure that her dad had tried to get in there, but Harley had enlisted a total blackout policy. Which she wasn’t really sure how he had gotten access to that since he wasn’t allowed full control over the AI’s, but who was she to question her brothers methods, especially when she knew that everyone in the tower could hack through it. 

She just wasn't sure they wanted too.   
  
More specifically she wasn’t sure her dad wanted to. She loved Tony Stark with all her heart- he was the only dad she had ever truly known- but the man sometimes confused her. Harley was sad, but that doesn't mean that he should just break away from society and mope around all day. He just needed a little shove to rejoin the general public and then he’d be right as rain. Or as right as rain could be when there's acid in the air.

She stood in front of his door, a sense of deja vu washing over her as she spoke out to Harley through the door, “Can I come in?” 

There was no response, but Abbie wasn’t surprised about that. He could be on the other side of the room, or asleep. She sighed, “Please?” 

Still nothing. 

“Friday, let me in.” 

“Harley has requested a total blackout, Little Boss.”   
  
“Total blackout has never applied to me before, Fri.” 

The AI seemed to think on their words, “This is slightly difference. Before, any time Mini Boss enacted protocol it was for work. He enacted this one for solitude.”   
  
“Just let me in.”    
  
“Alright.”    
  
The door opened with a soft hiss. 

Harley’s room was inky black. The only light in the room came from a small nightlight that Abbie knew was Peter Parkers. Or at least, was at Peter’s apartment usually. Harley must have brought it here the last time he had visited Peter’s place. She slipped into the room, sliding the curtains open a bit, letting more light in. 

Despite the fact that Harley was facing the wall, his breathing normal, the room looked as if it was a tomb. Everything was so still, not the well loved well lived in chaos that she usually associated with her brother. 

There were no machine parts laying on the floor. No blueprints on the desk. No well loved and well worn goggles on the door handle of the closet. Any tub of leftover grease that he kept in his room for spares was gone. Clean. Gray. Dead. That's what the room felt like. 

But Harley himself wasn’t dead. 

He was breathing on the bed, and was awake from what Abbie could tell. She stepped towards him, “Hey.” 

Harley turned slightly, craning his neck to see her, “Hey.” 

His voice sounded gone from lack of use and Abbie found herself flinching at the roughness of it. Her brothers eyes were red, rimmed with unshed tears that clearly had been falling a lot if the dried tear tracks were any indicator. They looked so…. empty. They were not anything like her brothers eyes, usually full of mischief and life. She blinked. 

“You planning on coming out of your room anytime soon?” Abbie sat on the desk, “You know there's a world out there.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

Abbie frowned, “Yeah but you really should.”

“Nah. I think I just wanna stay in bed for awhile.”

Harley returned to looking at the wall, and Abbie knew a dismissal when she saw one. But she wasn’t about to leave him alone now. Not when he clearly needs to get out of bed and do something, anything to help himself feel better. 

“Come on,” She kept her voice light, a trick she had learned from Pepper, “You need to get out and say hi to Tony or Miles.” 

“I’m tired, Abbie.” 

“You’ve been in your room all week, probably sleeping,” Abbie countered, “You should get out of bed.” 

“I’m just kind of tired.” 

“You haven’t been doing anything all week, though!”    


“Abbie,” Harley’s voice was exhausted and cracking, “I just don’t feel good right now. I wanna be alone.”    
  
“But-” 

“Please?” 

Abbie blinked back. 

Her brothers voice was destroyed. Maybe not in an overt way. If she was anyone else she would think that he was apathetic. But she wasn’t anyone else. She was Abbie Keener. And she knew her brother.

Harley was never apathetic. 

He was never this quiet. His voice never had that tilt of complete and utter brokenness. He sounded like he was giving up. 

Abbie blinked, “Okay.” 

She would be back again, she knew as she turned on her heel and walked to the door. A soft hiss and the room locked behind her. She stared at the wall across from his door. Her brother sounded like he wanted to give up. 

Harley wasn’t known to give up. She had never known Harley to give up. When they were younger… and now he just never truly gave up everything no matter how bad the situation got. Because they were Keeners. Because they were Keener-Starks. They didn’t just give up. 

They found new ways to do it. New ways to succeed. 

And yet her brother was still laying in his bed with a stare of complete and utter destruction. With eyes like glass. Lifeless and listless. 

She frowned. 

She would try again tomorrow.   
  


 

_ Three Months after the snap  _

_ Three Months and Two Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Depression _

  
  
  


“Dad has a plan,” Abbie grinned at her brother as she walked in the room, “He has a plan and he’s gonna fix it!” 

Harley didn’t sit up, but to be honest, Abbie wasn’t expecting him too. Or at least wasn’t expecting him to sit up until she explained that their  _ dad _ had a  _ plan  _ and it was going to fix  _ everything _ . It was the best thing she had ever heard, to be honest, because it meant everyone was going to be back! Everyone was going to be back, and everyone would be happy again. 

Abbie sat at the foot of his bed, facing him and crossing her legs, “He has a plan to fix what Thanos did.” 

“I know.” 

“Wha-” Abbie blinked, confused, “How do you know? He literally just announced it!” 

“He came to talk to me about it last night, when he realized it.” 

“Then why aren’t you more excited?” 

“Abbie,” Harley sat up, and she could see the exhaustion in his face. It was written in his eyes, which were dull from lack of sleep, and maybe something more. She was confused, “It won’t work.” 

“What do you mean it won’t work?” Abbie felt her voice raise in pitch, “Of course it will!” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Why?” 

“I just don’t.” 

“Harley,” Abbie was aware on how scathing her voice sounded to her own ears. She sounded like their mom used to when Harley blew up something without her permission, and she almost wanted to flinch at her own voice. But Harley didn’t flinch, just kept looking at something directly over her shoulder, “Why?” 

Harley sighed, “It's just all hypotheticals. It’s not solid, and Tony genuinely doesn’t know if it will work.” 

“But it will!” 

“We don’t know that.” 

“Well we have to hope that!” 

Harley’s entire body slumped in on itself a little further, “We can hope that, yes.” 

“But you don’t hope that,” Abbie came to a realization, “You don’t think it will work. You genuinely don’t think it will work.  This isn’t you being a butt, this is you genuinely thinking it wont work. That they’ll fail.” 

Harley stayed silent. But it was all the confirmation that Abbie needed.    


“Fucking unbelievable,” she growled, getting off her brothers bed, “You’ve spent the last three months rattling off theories about where they could be and how to get them back and when push come to shove-” 

Harley’s eyes snapped to hers, “I gave up on those theories because they didn’t make sense-”

“Even though you’re being offered a chance to see if you can get him back-”

“I want him to get back-” 

“Yet you don’t think it will work-” 

“I cant-” 

“Can’t what-” 

“I can’t keep hoping-” 

“So you don’t even wanna hold onto the idea that he could come back-”

“Abigail!”

“Harley, why the fuck-” 

_ “Shut up!” _ Harley’s voice held so much emotion, “ Of course I want Peter back! But what the fuck do you think is going to happen if they lose?! I CAN'T AFFORD TO GET MY HOPES UP-” 

“BUT YOU WONT EVEN LET YOURSELF THINK IT WILL WORK-” 

“BECAUSE WHAT IF IT DOESN’T?” Her brother yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking, “what if it doesn't and I let myself think it does and it doesn’t?! What if I let myself believe I’ll have him back only to have everything ripped away from me again?! I can’t fucking go through that again! That’s why I don’t think it will work! That’s why I’m not even going to fight! I can’t! I can’t hold onto a belief that he’s going to be back only to not get that!  I can’t do shit! Because if I let myself believe that he’s going to be back- that he’ll be here to hold me and love me and be with me again- and it turns out he won’t be back- that it was all some stupid thing we tried and failed- do you know what that’ll do to me?!” 

She stopped, processing his words, “You’re not even going to fight?” 

“I can’t.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

“Can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I just can’t.” 

“I don’t understand,” Abbie shook her head, looking at him again, “I don’t understand.” 

“I just can’t fight a battle that I don’t know for sure we’ll win,” Harley told her, voice softer than it had been moments ago, “I’m sorry I snapped, and I’m sorry I yelled, but I can’t fight in something that might not even save him.” 

Abbie blinked back, shaking her head again, “I’m sorry for pushing- but I don’t understand.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I just don’t get it, Harley,” Her head was spinning with all the reasons why, “You care about him so much. Isn’t it worth it? Isn’t even the chance to have him back worth it?"

“Of course it is-” 

“Then why won’t you fight?” 

“What if it doesn’t work?” Harley looked away from her, focusing on his hands. On the ring, “What if it doesn’t work and I thought it would. What happens then, Abbie?"

“You find a new way.” 

“There is no new way.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I just,” he paused, before shaking his head, “I can’t fight.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I know you don’t.” 

She walked to the door, turning slightly when she reached the frame, “He would’ve fought for you.” 

“He always was the better one of us.”    
  
  


_ Four Months after the snap  _

_ Three Months and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Depression _

  
  


“Tony?” 

Her dad looked up from his plans, eyes startled before settling on his daughter with a soft and fond expression, one she knew was reserved for just his kids, “Yeah kid?” 

“Can we talk?” 

The fond expression slipped off his face as it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. He nodded and she stepped into the room, which was filled to the brim of reminders of what was to come. Of the real final battle. 

She sat down next to him, “Harley isn’t going to fight.” 

“I know that,” Tony’s brow furrowed deeper, “Is that okay?” 

“I just don’t understand why he won’t fight, I guess.” 

“Kiddo,” Tony was trying to soften his voice best he could, she could tell. She loved her dad but he always was bad at being gentle when he was upset, “He’s grieving.” 

“But shouldn’t that grief be used to get him back?”   
  
“That's not how grief works.”    


“Then I don't understand how it works,” Abbie admitted with a shrug, “I just don't get why he’s… like this. I don’t know.” 

“Like this?” 

“He won’t get out of bed,” She told Tony what she was sure he already knew, “And despite not leaving his bed he won’t sleep. He won’t eat unless explicitly told too- he’s losing weight at an alarming rate. He just kind of sits there, staring at the wall. And I can tell he’s on the brink of breaking down because everytime I pass by his door now days, he’s always talking to Peter like he's there when Peter isn’t.” 

Tony’s entire body deflated, some sort of realization in his eyes, “He’s depressed.” 

“Harley doesn’t get depressed.” 

“Everyone gets depressed.” 

“Not my brother.” 

“Yes,” Tony told her softly, “Even your brother gets depressed.”   


“But he’s Harley!” 

“But he also just lost someone he loves very much.” 

“But we’re getting him back.” 

Her dad’s eyes were sad, slightly broken, and it really made him look his age. It made him look like a dad that didn’t know what to do, “That doesn’t matter.” 

“It should.” 

“You’re right,” He admitted to her, “It should. But it doesn’t. Logically, Harley isn’t hurt. He’s not wounded. He’s not dying. He’s okay and he’s stable. But emotionally? Harley is destroyed. Peter was a huge part of his life, who was suddenly just ripped away from him in the worst way possible. Especially for Harley who has always had so much faith in Peter and Peter’s ability to come back. And now all of that- all that faith, all that love- has been torn to shreds because Peter isn’t here right now-” 

“But he’s going to be here,” Abbie protested, “Y’all are gonna save him and it will be oaky- so Harley should get his ass out of bed and help!” 

“It's not that simple.” 

“Its plenty simple.” 

“Abbie…” Tony seemed to think on his words for a second, “Do you remember when your mom died.” 

Abbie bristled. It’d been three years, and she still couldn’t handle the mention of it without feeling horrible. She blinked hard, “Of course.” 

“He’s finally grieving.” 

“What does my mom have to do with that?” 

“A lot, if we’re honest-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now,” She said, standing up and walking away from her dad, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, “I’ll see you later, dad.”    
  
  


“Abbie,” Pepper’s voice sounded from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?” 

“Could I stop you?” 

The door opened with a hiss to show Pepper with her arms crossed, “Ha ha, very funny.” 

“Is this about yesterday?” Abbie skipped their usual banter, “Because if it is, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Yesterday?” 

“With Tony?” 

Pepper blinked and shuffled to move inside the room and sit on the bed, “I wasn’t aware there was a yesterday, to be honest.” 

“There was a yesterday.” 

“What was it about?” 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Abbie huffed, feeling a tad bit like a snake with people tapping on the glass, “The gist of it is I think Harley should fight, and Tony asked me questions about my mom. Its whatever. I just kind of want to read.” 

“Reading your feelings away?” Pepper hummed under her breath, “You did that then too.” 

Abbie sat up, putting her book to the side, “what do you mean.” 

“When you first came to live with us, you read a lot.” 

“Why does that matter?” 

“You were grieving.” 

“So?” 

“Abbie,” Pepper sighed softly, “You and Harley are more similar than you think.” 

“We’re siblings,” Abbie pointed out, “Of course we’re similar.” 

“You two grieve the same.” 

Abbie looked at her adopted mom, “What do you mean?” 

“You were like this when you first came here,” Pepper shrugged softly, “Sad. Sullen. Withdrawn. After your mom died… you might not remember it.” 

That was a fair statement. It’d been three years, and she remembered her moms actual death. The month after that though, not really. She remembered a lot more of her time in the care of the Starks after she had started going to school.

She didn’t remember after her mom died. Pepper must have taken that as a sign to continue though, because she did, “You got really sick a few days after your mom's funeral. At first we thought it was because you weren’t feeling well, but it turns out you hadn’t been sleeping or eating much. You cried a lot, so you were very very dehydrated… it was hard seeing you like that.” 

She blinked. She definitely didn’t remember getting sick. 

Pepper continued with no comment on her silence, “It was hard on Harley too. He didn’t know what to do or how to help. And he wanted to help as best as he could. But he just didn’t know how. You were inconsolable. It was hard on everyone. You-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Abbie stood up, her hands shaking. 

She didn’t remember this. 

She didn’t remember grieving like that. 

She didn’t remember getting sick. 

And she didn’t want to. 

She walked away from Pepper, trying to stop her hands. 

She didn’t want Harley to get sick. To waste away. 

 

She ran to Harley’s room, away from Pepper in the living room, and started banging on his door. It opened with a hiss and he was sitting up in bed, eyes wide with something she thought could be panic, “Harley!” 

“Are you okay?” Her brother asked, his voice still hoarse from disuse, “What’s wrong?” 

“Get out of bed!” 

“What?” 

“You have to get out of bed,” Abbie moved towards him, grabbing his hand, “You need to!” 

“Okay,” Harley still looked concerned, “Why?” 

“You just need to!” 

“Abbie,” His voice was perturbed, “Whats going on?” 

“You can’t waste away!” 

“I’m not-” 

“Then get out of bed!” 

Harley inhaled, “I just don’t feel well.” 

“Why?!” 

“I just don’t-” 

“Please?” 

A silence ran over the siblings, and Abbie could feel her temper rising, biting at her to yell and try to get him to react with anything but concern or apathy. She was still shaking, “Get out.” 

“Abbie-” 

Abbie cut him off, “Get out and fight! Get out and fight or something! Join them to go fight, just- just- get out of bed.”

“Abbie,” Harley’s voice rang with warning and unease, “I told you why I wasn’t going to fight. I don’t wanna talk about it again-”

“Then get out of bed and do something!” Abbie pleaded, aware she sounded like a mad man,  “God fucking dammit Harley!”

“Abbie,” He repeated, “You need to calm down. I just don’t feel too well right now.”  

You can’t be fucking depressed forever!” She ran her hands through her hair, a nervous tick she new she had taken from him, “You need to fucking do something!” 

“I don’t feel well-” 

“You need to get over it!” Abbie threw her hands up and out in frustration, that she knew wasn’t really frustration at all, but concern, “You need to get over it, please!”

By the end of her sentence she was shouting as loud as she could without screaming, suddenly aware that she had been slowly growing in volume along her little tirade. Harley had just been sitting there, taking the shouting without flinching. She blinked back, aware of what she just said. 

Because what she just said wasn’t right. 

Harley didn’t need to get over it. He was mourning Peter, and that was okay. What wasn’t okay was that she was reacting like this, all anger and anguish, in an attempt to make him better. He wasn’t better. He wasn’t going to be better. 

He wasn’t going to be better, just because she didn’t understand why. He wasn’t going to feel better just because she wanted him to. He wasn’t going to get better just because she wanted him to. And it was stupid of her to ask that of him. It was all stupid.

And yet here she was yelling at him for something he couldn’t control. All because she didn’t understand. Because she didn't understand. 

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, looking at him with what she suspected were tears, “I shouldn’t be shouting at you right now. You don’t have to get over it. I’m sorry.” 

After what felt like several billion hours, which might have only been seconds, she turned on her heel, away from her brother. 

She couldn’t face him right now. 

 

_ Four Months after the snap  _

_ Three Months and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Depression _

 

“Harley?” Abbie whispered into the darkness of her brothers room, “Can I sleep with you tonight?” 

When they were younger, they had shared a room. By default, whenever had a Abbie had nightmare or was generally not okay, Harley was always there for her. They hadn’t shared a room in three years. Especially not in the last year when Harley found himself sharing a bed with Peter more often than not. 

But it was still something they found themselves doing. Whenever Abbie was afraid to sleep because of anything, she came to stay with her older brother. And more often than not, Peter joined them on the sleepovers after him and Harley started dating. 

It didn’t change the fact that it only ever happened when Abbie was seriously upset. 

Harley moved against the darkness, turning on a lamp to look at her, “Are you okay?” 

“I don't wanna be alone,” She admitted, trudging over to her brother, “I don't want you to be alone either.”

“I’m okay.” 

Abbie sat on the bed, her voice soft, “You’re really not.” 

Harley stayed silent for a second, before lying down again, turning off the lamp, “Neither are you.” 

“I-” Abbie blinked, her feelings bubbling up in her chest. Her mind flashed to their mom, “Do you remember when dad left?” 

“Yeah,” Harley rolled to be facing her, “I do.” 

“Mom always talked about how you stepped up.” 

“I had to.”

Abbie lied down, facing him, “Mom always talked about how hard that first year was. How I was upset and inconsolable and how you really stepped in as a brother because she was always gone.”

“I wanted to,” Harley shrugged in the darkness, his voice just as soft, “When he left you cried for days when you seemingly realized that he wasn’t coming back. And Mom was suddenly so busy with everything she had to do to make sure we had enough money to live. So I took care of you.” 

“I know. Thank you.” 

“You’re my baby sister, Abbie,” Harley told her, “No matter what kind of fights we get in, what kind of arguments, I still care about you.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m sorry I’ve been like this.” 

“Don’t be,” Abbie told him honestly, “You have a right to mourn and be upset. Peter was your everything and now… I’m sorry I’ve been so me about all of this.”   
  
“It’s fine.” 

“It’s really not.”

“Maybe it’s not.” 

Abbie chuckled sadly, “It’s not. Me yelling at you and screaming at you just because I don’t understand how you’re feeling isn’t okay.” 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

Abbie shushed him, “I’m always right.” 

The two stayed in silence for a moment. The only sound was their own breathing, and Abbie thought back to a time when she was young and they had split the room up with a sheet that their mom had dubbed the Berlin Wall. It had cut off all the light from the nightlight from the bathroom, so it was always pitch black. She and Harley had talked through the sheet until the fight was over. 

She smiled at the memory. 

Harley broke the silence, because for as long as Harley Keener existed, he hated silence, “Do you think mom would be proud of us?”

“I think she would.” 

“I know she would be proud of you,” Harley shrugged in the inky darkness again, “She was always proud of you.” 

“She was always proud of you too.” 

“She didn’t know I was gay.” 

Abbie raised an eyebrow at the statement, “She wouldn’t have cared. Mom loved us more than she loved anything in the world. She would have accepted you without hesitation. And she would have loved Peter.” 

“Yeah,” Harley breathed out, “She would have loved him.” 

“And he would have loved her.” 

“Yeah,” Harley repeated, “He would have loved her.” 

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Harley’s voice sounded like a breeze coated in sorrow, “I keep asking myself what if she had been here.” 

“She would have loved everything.” 

“She would have loved him,” Harley shifted onto his back, “And she would have been so excited when he proposed to me.” 

Abbie inhaled sharply, “He would have asked her for permission. Like he asked me.” 

“He was sweet like that.” 

“He was.” 

“We were going to get married, Abbie.” 

“I know.” 

“I just,” Harley’s voice was shaky, “I just… he was going to propose to me on the roof of Stark Tower. Did you know that?” 

“I did.” 

“He was going to propose to me on the roof of Stark Tower, because that place means so much to us,” Abbie felt tears well in her eyes at the raw heartbreak in her brothers voice, “The first time we kissed. Our first real fight. Our first real time saying I love you. All on Stark Tower. And he was going to propose on the roof.” 

Harley sniffled, his voice still shaking, “And I would have said yes, because it was going to be so perfect. He would have some romantic cheesy speech prepared but he’d be so nervous he’d stumble over his words with jitters but he wouldn’t need it because I would have said yes the second he pulled out the ring. And I would have been so  _ happy.” _

“I was gonna be happy, Abbie,” Harley whispered into the darkness, “I was going to be so happy. I was gonna marry the love of my life and we were gonna be happy. Tony was gonna walk me down the aisle, and you and MJ and Shuri would be my grooms maids. It was going to be perfect. And I would have been so so so happy. And right when Tony gave me away, you and I would have looked at each other because we both knew that mom was here with us. That mom was proud of us. What we’ve done with our lives.” 

“And after college,” Harley’s voice caught, “After we were stable, we would have gotten kids. Macy May. After mom and May. And she would have been perfect. God our lives would have been so good. And I would be have been so so so happy.” 

Harley was crying now, “But I can’t be happy. I can’t be happy now. Now that he’s gone.” 

That's when it hit her. 

Peter Parker was gone. 

Peter Parker was gone, and so was May Parker. So were Jesse Thompson and Lila Barton. So were her friends from school. So was half the population. 

They were all gone. They were all gone and they had no way to come back. And god if that didn’t hurt so much more than it had any right too.   
  
She hadn’t wanted to think about it at all. Hadn’t wanted to dwell on the dead. She’d just wanted to live, to make sure she was safe. That Harley was safe. That Miles was safe. That they were going to be okay. But she had refused to think of the dead. 

She didn’t want to think about Peter Parker, who was a second brother-  a future brother in law. She didn’t want to think about all the times Peter had made her laugh uncontrollably when she was sad. To think of all the times that Peter had helped her pull a prank on Harley. She didn’t want to think of how Peter Parker was now dead. 

To think of May Parker who had become her aunt in so many ways. To think of all the times May had helped her be herself. To think of all the times that May had known what to do when no one else did. She didn’t want to think of how now May Parker was dead. 

She hadn’t wanted to think of Jesse Thompson, with her long black hair and shy smile. She didn’t want to think of how many times Jesse had helped her with her math homework. Or how Jesse used to make jokes about things that flew over her head. She hadn’t wanted to think about how Jesse Thompson was dead. 

She never wanted to think about how Lila- Lila, sweet Lila- was dead. 

But it hit her. 

And it hit her hard. 

She cried, for the first real time that since the decimation. 

She cried for Lila Barton. She cried for Jesse Thompson. She cried for Aunt May. She cried for Peter Parker. 

And she cried for her brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONCE AGAIN A BIGTHANK YOU TO EMRY FOR ALWAYS BEING THE BEST BETA READER, and a baby shout out to Mauvera and Mel fro helping me out. 
> 
> As always, comment and tell me what ya think! You can hit me up at Lovelylangst on tumblr!!


	5. Stage Five: Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley needed to accept that Peter was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is,,,, done,,,, 
> 
> this was,,, a wild ride. I'm sorry I didn't update last weekedn, I tried my hardest to. Having said that, this week is probably gonna have a drabble or two and then NEXT week I will continue on with the real series. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: 
> 
> Lack of eating due to grief  
> Lack of sleep  
> Hallucinations due to sleep deprivation  
> mentions of suicide

 

_ Four Months after the snap  _

_ Four Months and One Week After Harley finds Out  _

_ Acceptance _

  
  


“He’s dead.” 

Harley watched as Pepper startled. He supposed that was fair. After all he was the asshole that hadn’t left his room in forever. To suddenly see him up might’ve been a bit of a shock, considering how adament he’d been on staying in his room. It also might’ve been a shock that the first words he said to Pepper since he had disappeared into his room for some sweet, sweet sleep. Or at least that's what he told himself. 

He stepped into the dark living room, “He’s really gone isn’t he?” 

“Harley,” Pepper’s voice was confused, “What…?”

“Peter. He’s gone.” 

Pepper looked at him with eyes that he couldn’t read, “He might not be.” 

“Don’t give me that shit,” Harley shook his head, moving to sit down next to the couch, “They don’t know where Thanos is. They don’t know if their plan will work. By Bruce’s own calculations, there's only a 15 percent chance that it could even go into effect. We don’t know if it will work, and what’s more, we don’t even know if we have a solid chance.” 

“Thats,” Pepper seemed to think of her words, “Fair to be honest. I can see why you wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.”   
  
“I do hope though.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Harley looked towards the ceiling, “I’d give anything for him to be back. But at this point I need to accept he’s gone.” 

“You don’t need to do anything.” 

“I kind of do.” 

“No you-” 

“I’ve started fully hallucinating him.” 

Pepper blinked. She took a second to process his words, “Fully?” 

“Yeah, fully,” Harley was tense, “You know because it started with just his voice calling my name when I was tired.” 

“Sleep deprivation,” Pepper realized turning to Harley with a new look in her eyes, more concerned than her last one, “You’re hallucinating from sleep deprivation.” 

“Yeah.” 

Pepper leaned forward, her lips pursed, “That's really not healthy Harley.” 

“I know.” 

“You need to sleep.” 

“I know.” 

“But you aren’t…?” 

“I’m gonna be honest with you Pepper,” Harley looked at her with  sad, tired eyes, “I can’t any more. That's why I need to accept it. But every time I try to I just… I hallucinate him. His voice ringing over my room. His eyes are still burnt into mine. Like… I can’t close my eyes without seeing his face. Without seeing him.” 

He turned to Pepper fully, “I started to forget what my mom looked like a year after she died. And thank god for pictures but… I can’t forget what Peter looks like. I can’t forget about Peter. I’ve lost… everything, but I can’t lose what he had with me. What I had with him.” 

“But you need to sleep.” 

“Dad doesn’t.” 

“Your dad,” Pepper hesitated, before just saying it, “Is a fucking idiot who doesn’t take care of himself.” 

Harley stayed silent, and Pepper continued, “You’re meant to be better than him, you realize right? That's what he wants. For you to be better. For you to be more-” 

“I can’t be more,” His voice was shakier than he’d like to admit, “All I know for sure is that when I don’t sleep I see Peter. That's why I need to just… come to terms with his death. To accept it. Because for god's sake Pepper, I can’t do this. I can't keep living for thirty minute naps between being awake. I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Harley-” 

Harley continued like he hadn’t heard her, “I can’t keep pretending that if I just close my eyes and listen to the whisper of his voice it’ll be real. Because its not. He’s not here anymore. And I’m- I’m-” Harley struggled to find the words- “I’m killing myself to see him alive.” 

“Oh Harley,” Pepper’s lips were pressed in a thin line, “I’m so sorry.” 

“I don’t eat anymore,” Harley admitted, “I just physically can’t do it. I can’t eat. I can’t eat because every time I do, I feel so so guilty. I feel so so angry. I feel so- so-” Harley paused pressing his palms into his eyes, “Bad. I just feel bad. There’s nothing I can do, nothing anyone can. I’m just being fucking pathetic, and I don’t wanna be pathetic. I wanna be more. I want to eat and sleep, and take care of myself, but god dammit.” 

Harley took a deep breath, “I keep imagining what it would be like to start a bath and just. Sink.” 

“Oh,” Pepper took a sharp breath, “Please don’t.” 

“I couldn’t,” Harley admitted, “Even if there is comfort in the bottom of a swimming pool, or whatever, I can’t. Because I close my eyes, and Peter is there. MJ is there. Ned. Harry. Shuri. Everyone I care about. They’re there. Just behind my eyelids, and I  _ know  _ they wouldn’t want me to die. They wouldn’t. They all cared about me so so much, and here I am, the last one of my friend’s alive.” 

“I can’t imagine-”

“I know you can’t,” Harley closed his eyes, his mind far away, “They wouldn’t want me to die. Logically I know that. The dreams I have don’t know that though. There’s very few things stopping me- Abbie can’t lose anyone else, I’m scared, Harry’s attempts, Peter- but I just… I want them back. And I don’t know how to get them back. So I need to move on. I need to accept it. I need to do more, or be better, but I can’t. I can’t. I can’t let them go… I can’t let him go.” 

“But you need too.” 

“He’s dead.” 

“He may not be.” 

Harley looked at her, and for the first time she really saw just how tired he was. Just how drained and upset he was. It was unnerving, watching her brain put together just how little he had been sleeping, “I can’t keep holding out for that. I can’t keep hoping that he’s okay. Let's be honest here, Pep, he’s not coming back. We can’t keep holding out for something that might not ever happen. I can’t keep holding out for that. Not when I’m wasting away.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Harley smoothed down his shirt collar, the action familiar and nice. Something he had used to do for Peter after he pulled him down for a kiss, “You didn’t do anything. Thanos did. And Peter chose to go out and fight him. Instead of being here. With me.” 

“You don’t blame him though,” Pepper blinked at him, her brow furrowed, “Right? Like you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating a superhero, right?” 

Harley gave her a deadpan look, which he was sure came off as much more asshole-ish than he was going for, “Of course I did. I’m not upset that he went and fought. I’d never be mad at him for being a hero. Not anymore, at least. I get it. He’s Spider-Man. He’s Peter Parker. He’s a hero. I understand that,” He paused looking back at the ceiling, “I just wish he had been here. I wish I had gotten to kiss him one more time. I wish I had gotten to hold him one more time. I just… I wish.” 

“I know,” The heartbreak was palible in Pepper’s voice, but Harley pretended he didn’t notice, “I’m sorry.” 

“Pep.” 

“I know you say I shouldn’t be,” Pepper sighed, “And you’re right. I had nothing t do with the snap, or Peter’s choice to go and fight. I’m not sorry for that. I am sorry that your heart is broken. I am sorry that he’s gone. I’m sorry for a lot of things.” 

“I’ll be okay.”

Harley didn’t look at her, even when her hand found its way to his shoulder, an attempt to get his attention no doubt, “You won’t be okay. You just admitted to having suicidal thoughts, Harley. You’re so so strong, and so so so brave. Everything you’ve been through… everything you’re going through… it's not easy, and I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of this. You deserve so much more than what you’ve gotten.” 

“But,” Pepper sighed again, “You’ve always had so much love and hope in your heart. It’s okay that you don’t have that right now. It’s okay. You might not be okay for a long long time Harley, but guess what?” 

“What?” 

“I’m here,” Pepper told him very seriously, and he looked at her, “I may not be Macy, but you’re my kid. So I’m always going to be here. I’ll always be here. So will Abbie, who adores you more than anything in the entire world. So will Tony, your dad who loves you very much. You have so so much.”

“I just,” Harley let tears come to his eyes, “I miss him. So so so much.” 

“I know."

And in the morning light filtered into Stark Tower, a mother held her son while he cried.

  
  
  


_ Four Months after the snap  _

_ Four Months and Two Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Acceptance _

 

 

“Harley?” 

Harley glanced up from his laptop, quickly shutting it when he saw it was Tony, “Hey.”

“We know where he is,” His dad stepped into the room, taking a seat at the foot of his bed, “Thanos. We know where he is.” 

“Oh,” Harley breathed out, eyes wide, “Oh my god.” 

“We know where he is. We’re going to fight him.” 

“Oh my god,” Harley sat up straighter, “Holy shit. You know where he is.” 

They knew where Thanos was. Harley let the words sink in for a second. This was… a shock to say the least. They finally pinpointed where Thanos was. Which meant they might have a chance, a thought Tony voiced. 

“We have a chance.”   
  
“You guys might have a chance.” 

“We leave tomorrow.”

Harley raised a brow at his dad, more concerned than anything, “Tony, are you guys even prepared? Have you planned a battle strategy, or a method of transportation.” 

“Of course I have, I’m Tony Stark,” Tony ran a hand through his hair, “ What kinda fool do you take me for? I’ve been talking about this battle since the snap. We have everything in place. We have a ship. We have the methods to get there. With Nebula’s guidance, we have a fairly good picture of how to get there. It's just a matter of making it there, which we can do with the lightspeed engine.” 

“How long will it take?” 

“Hard to say,” His dad shrugged, “Depends if we can get the engine running or not.” 

Harley blinked hard, “Wait. I thought you said you were leaving tomorrow.” 

“We have the regular engine up, just not the lightspeed engine.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Harley Muttered, sliding out of bed, “Get your ass to the lab. I’m coming to help.” 

He made it to the door before Tony grabbed his wrist, “Will you fight?” 

He paused. Would he fight? 

He honestly didn’t know. He couldn’t know. As good as this was… it might not work. It might be a suicide mission. Better to not get his hopes up.

He shook his head, “We’ll see.”   
  


He ended up not joining them in the fight.

Kind of by his own choice, but also kind of by the fact that Bruce had done a once over and said he wasn’t fit to fight. He looked as dead as he felt apparently. He was actually kind of glad that Bruce had made the call for him not to fight. He didn’t think fighting was a good idea. 

Kinda hard to back a fight that he didn’t really believe in.

Which was weird.

He wanted Peter back so so so much, but there was just… no way he was coming back. Peter was dead. And no amount of hallucinations and bad dreams would fix that. No matter how many times he reached out in the night, reaching for a boy who no longer existed. Peter Parker was dead. And he needed to accept that. 

Even though it hurt, he needed to get his ass in gear and accept that. 

So he wasn’t going to fight. He couldn’t. He couldn’t fight, and fail and have to be faced with the grieving process all over again. Because if he fought, if he allowed himself to believe that Peter was going to be back… he would truly go through this again. 

But this time, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself. 

Wasn’t sure he could live life like this. 

But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter as he finished the engine based off of Shuri’s blueprints. It didn’t matter as Tony hugged and kissed his family goodbye. It didn’t matter as the Avengers poured into the spaceship. It didn’t matter as he watched the space ship fly off. 

They left on Wednesday. 

And on Thursday, he crashed. Bad. The hallucinations got worse and he… he didn’t know if he could do this. 

He didn’t know if he could hope.

  
  
  


_ Four Months after the snap  _

_ Four Months and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out  _

_ Acceptance _

  
  
  


There’s a knock on his door.    
  
No one ever knocks on his door anymore. They know he won’t answer it, so they just walk in, and hope for the best. It's never the best.    
  
And right now, Harley isn’t in the mood to deal with Abbie’s soft voice, or Pepper’s kind eyes, or anything. He just wasn't in the mood for anything. He just wanted to rest. To sleep. Except not to sleep, because he was finally almost at that point where he was good. Where everything in reality closed down and it felt more like a dream.    
  
Well the hallucinations felt more like a dream.    
  
So he closed his eyes tight, turning his back away from the door, “I’m tired.”    
  
“Harley?”    
  
He shot up, scrambling to the wall behind him as he took in the image in front of him.    
  
Peter Parker.    
  
Peter Parker in a torn up Spider-suit, with a black eye and a split lip. Peter Parker breathing alive and well. Peter Parker, looking at him, looking too afraid to move. But his eyes were scanning every inch of his frame. Peter Parker who looked alive and well and breathing. Peter Parker who was okay.    
  
His Peter.    
  
His Peter. His Peter who was standing there clutching his mask and looking at Harley like he wasn’t really there. His Peter who had such beautiful eyes and messy mask hair. His Peter who looked too good to be true.    
  
His Peter who was to good to be true.    
  
His Peter who was a hallucination.    
  
It had to be.    
  
It couldn’t be real, because Peter was dead. Peter was dead and he was never coming back to him and that was that. That was what was true. He needed to accept that already and get over it.    
  
But how could he?    
  
How could he get over it when his brain supplied him with the image in front of him. Of Peter, alive and standing and well. How could he accept that Peter was dead when his mind likes playing tricks on him.    
  
He clinched his eyes tight, “Peter.”    
  
“Harley...”    
  
God it sounded so much like him. It sounded so so so much like him. Like the voice Harley had been needing to hear for months. It was so real. It was so real and Harley hates that his mind was doing that. Playing this trick on him. Because it hurt. It hurt.    
  
“You’re not real,” Harley choked out, face hot with feeling, “God you’re not real.”    
  
“What?” The hallucinations voiced hitched, “Harley- Harley I swear to god I’m real.”    
  
Harley presses his hands to his ears, but he knew that wouldn’t muffle the sound of peters voice. God he missed Peters voice. He almost wanted to open his eyes just to look at the hallucination. Just to see Peter again. But that wasn’t a good thing.    
  
He needed to accept that Peter was dead.    
  
He didn’t need this hallucination. Not right now. 

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t face the image of his boyfriend that his mind stirred because it wasn’t real. It wasn’t his Peter and that broke him a little bit. He heard footsteps, and his eyes opened out of someone else’s accord, because he didn’t want to look at his hallucination.    
  
The hallucination got on his knees in front of the bed, “Harley, please-“    
  
“You’re not real,” Harley presses his palms to his eyes, trying to press the tears back, talking to himself, “Peter is dead. Peter died because of Thanos. This is just another hallucination. This is just another hallucination. He’s dead. No matter how much you want him back he’s still dead. He’s dead. This is just another hallucination.”    
  
“God Harley,” The hallucination reached for him, and he pressed himself harder to the wall. Touch would break the illusion. It always did. The hallucination wore a pained and hurt expression, tears welling up in those perfect brown eyes, “I’m real, I swear I’m real.”    
  
“It’s not real.”    
  
“I’m real.”   
  
“It’s not real,” Harley hiccuped, scrubbing at his eyes, “This isn’t real.”    
  
The hallucination reached for him again, and he tore his arm back. As much as it hurt, at least he was seeing Peter. Maybe it was Peter who wasn’t real, but at least it was Peter. And touch would break the illusion. And a small selfish part of him really didn’t want Peter to go away.    
  
The hallucination made a broken noise, “Harley, please, please I’m real. I swear to god I’m real.”    
  
“It’s not real,” Harley repeated scratching at his arms now because maybe pain would make it go away, “This isn’t real.”    
  
“I’m real, please, Harley,” The hallucination was begging in Peters voice, “Let me hold you, please Harley, I’m real- let me show you I’m real.”    
  
Harley looked at the hallucination and finally couldn’t hold back the tears, “But you’re not real. Peter died. You’re just another hallucination.”    
  
“I’m real,” The hallucination was crying too, “I’m real. I’m real and I love you. I love you so much Harley god- god- when I was trapped in that stone you were the only thing keeping me going- Harley please, I’m real, I’m real.”    
  
“This isn’t happening!” Harley was sobbing at this point.    
  
“But this is happening,” The hallucination told him, years streaming down his face, “I’m real. I’m back. And you’re back. We’re both okay- Harley I’m real- I’m so sorry I wasn’t back sooner- please Harley- please.”    
  
“You’re not real.”    
  
“But I am real,” The hallucination pleaded, “I swear to you I’m real. I’m as real as our first kiss on the roof of stark tower when we were fifteen years old, just kids in love and trying to figure each other out. I’m as real as our first actual date, where I was so nervous I spilt a milkshake all over the both of us and you just laughed and told me I was ridiculous. I’m  as real as-“    
  
“Stop,” Harley choked out, “Stop- I don’t wanna remember the things I had with him- stop-“    
  
“Harley, I’m real,” His voice was so so much like Peters, “I’m real. I’m as real as your freckles and the ones you gain during the summer months that you hate but I love because they’re so you. I’m as real as our first fight in the rain on the roof of stark tower where I told you I wasn’t going to leave you alone. And I’m not. I’m not gonna leave you alone. I’m never going to leave you alone. Not now. Not ever. I’m real, Harley, I’m real.” 

“But you did leave me alone!” Harley wheezed out between sobs. 

“I-“ The hallucination seemingly couldn’t think of words, “We were both alone. You were here, thinking I was dead. I was there, trying to find a way back to you. We were both so alone, but Harley, Love, please believe me when I tell you I’m real. Believe me because I am real, Harley, I’m real. I know you don’t think I am,” His voice hitched and his tears picked up in frequency, “But please, please, I’m real, and i love you. Please, please, Harley.” 

Harley wanted to reach for him, even though he knew it would break the hallucination, he needed to reach for him, but he wouldn’t allow himself that. Not yet, “You’re  _ dead _ .” 

“I’m not dead,” He reached for Harley hesitantly and silently asking for permission to touch him, “I’m not dead Harley.” 

And Harley gave in. 

He threw himself onto the hallucination, not caring if he crashed in the floor when it broke. He circled his arms around the hallucinations neck, crying into the very real shoulder. 

The very real hallucination. 

The very real Peter Benjamin Parker. 

He cried out, sobbing hard, “You’re alive!” 

“I’m alive,” Peters grip on him was tight and good and so much better than he had remembered, “I’m alive- god Harley, you’re okay.” 

“Wha- I’m okay,” Harley spluttered, ugly crying, running his hands over Peter shoulders and neck, trying to assure himself that he was really there, “Of course I’m okay- you- you died!” 

“I didn’t die,” Peter pulled back a little to study his face cupping Harley’s jaw and keeping their bodies as pressed together as he could, “I- I was stuck in the soul stone. In a world without you.” 

Harley kisses him hard, pressing his mouth to Peter’s, too busy crying to actually kiss him, “Peter-“ 

“Harley,” Peter leaned into him, one arm looped around his waist the other cupping his cheek, “God Harley.” 

“You’re real, you’re real, you’re not dead you’re real,” Harley was repeating the words to both him and Peter, hands coming to rest on the nape of Peters neck, “You’re real.” 

“I’m,” Peter presses a kiss to his forehead, “Real,” he pressed a kiss to both cheeks, “I’m,” He presses a kiss to Harley’s nose, “Alive,” And he finally kissed Harley on the lips, pressing a soft kiss. 

Harley wanted to cry even more. 

He was back. Peter was back. Peter was back and everything was going to be okay, because he was alive. 

Harley smiled into the kiss, still crying, “I love you, I love you- I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” Peter ran a hand through Harley’s hair, “God I love you so so much, I love you, god Harley-“ 

Harley kisses him hard again, “I love you more-“ 

“Impossible.” 

“Totally possible,” Harley wipes away Peters tears with his hand, “Totally possible because I’m currently so in love with you I would do anything to keep you around.” 

Peter returned the gesture of wiping tears by wiping Harley’s own, “You don’t need to do anything, because I’ll always be around. I’ll always be here.” 

“You weren’t here-“ 

“And I’ll never not be here again,” Peter whispered, pressing their foreheads together, “As long as you promise to always be here.” 

“God Peter,” Harley wanted to laugh, so he did. He laughed and it bubbled, and he felt like it was the first time he had laughed in months, “Of course I’ll always be here. I love you. I love you so much.” 

“You’re my everything,” Peter told him very very seriously, smile growing on his face, “You’re my everything, Harley Keener.”  

Harley laughed again, so so fucking happy, “God you wanna talk about everything’s? You can ask literally anyone and they’ll tell you how you’re my everything. How you completed me so wholly.” 

“Oh believe me I know,” Peters brow furrowed, “Abbie ratted you out.” 

“Oh.” 

“You need to take care of yourself, Harley.” 

“I will,” he promised, because he would, “I was in a bad place, but I swear to you right now that I will take care of myself. So long as you help me. And don’t pretend you’re so innocent,” Harley’s thumb traced over the obvious and dark bags under his eyes, “You need to sleep more.” 

“I couldn’t,” Peter said honestly, “Not when I knew you were in a different universe that I couldn’t reach. Not when I was separated from you like that. You’re my everything, and I couldn’t handle that being taken away, so I pushed myself as hard as I could to make it better. I needed you back so badly, so I fought and I fought until I collapsed. God, everyone was so worried about me, but I just needed to get you back. So I couldn’t sleep.” 

Peter took a breath, placing a soft kiss on Harley’s temple, “Not when I needed you back.” 

Harley kissed him, as deeply as he could. 

He was so in love with Peter Benjamin Parker. He was so in love with the friend he had made all those years ago over a mean ask about a hero they both loved. He was so in love with the superhero he kissed on the night of his first homecoming. He was so in love with the kid he had met in his freshman year of high school. 

He was so in love with the man that Peter Benjamin Parker has become. 

His Peter. His Spider-Man. His love. His life. His everything, if he was honest. 

  
  
  


_ Everything's Okay _

_ Acceptance _

  
  
  


It’s maybe a week after they all came back. A week since they all came back safe, and alive. A week since Peter had walked into his room and Harley had freaked out because he wasn’t sure if he was real. A week since they had everyone back. A week since the world was saved.

That's not what Harley cares about though, if he’s honest. He cares that he’s awake. He’s awake and he’s warm. Because Peter is back by his side. Maybe this was one of the things he had missed the most. The constant ever present warmth of his boyfriend when he woke up, every morning. 

He still found it hard to sleep. 

The memories of the four months where he was alone- well not  _ alone  _ but still alone- are too engraved into his mind for him to be able to sleep. But, Peter hadn’t questioned him when he had slipped into his bed every single night for the past week. In fact, Peter had been too busy holding him to question anything. 

And he appreciated it. 

Back before- before the snap, before he had been left  _ alone  _ for four months,  _ grieving  _ and suffering- he and Peter had done a game of, ‘oh can i stay over tonight?’ but it had never been a blatant need to not leave his side. To not be separated. It kinda made Harley feel stupid- after all, Peter was back. He didn’t have to worry anymore because Peter was back. 

He was real. He wasn’t one of those hallucinations that Harley had when he was at his worst point. He wasn’t a dream. He was real. He was breathing steadily, asleep next to him. Harley could feel the rise of his chest, the beat of his heart. Peter was back and he was not alone. He was fine.. And yet he was still afraid of letting Peter Parker out of his sight- which was ridiculous. 

It was all ridiculous.

He didn’t need to be upset about this. 

Not right now when Peter was asleep, and Harley was resting his head on his chest. The small breathes and puffs of air Peter Parker made when deep into the REM cycle still made him feel like a giddy teenager who was sharing a bed with his crush for the first time. Which was stupid because this was his boyfriend of three years, who he had shared a bed with multiple times. Who he had done more than share a bed with multiple times. But then again, this was his boyfriend of three years who had been  _ dead  _ for the past four months. 

He found his hands tracing out ‘I love you’ onto Peter’s chest, as the boy’s eyelids fluttered and he slowly woke up. 

His eyes were drawn to Harley’s, and he smiled. Harley had missed that smile so much, and he hadn't even realized how much until Peter’s sleep heavy voice brushed over his ears, “Morning, love.” 

“Morning,” Harley breathed, taking in the view of Peter Parker, “You sleep good?” 

“Always when I’m with you.” 

Harley couldn’t help himself. He laughed, “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I think I have a right to be cheesy,” Peter pouted at him, pulling him closer, “Especially since my beautiful, wonderful, amazing boyfriend is here resting in my arms.” 

“God,” Harley laughed again, “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Mhmm,” Peter smiled at him, “And you haven’t even kissed me awake yet.” 

Harley didn’t answer him, instead choosing to lean up and press a small kiss to his boyfriend's cheek. Then his other cheek. Then his forehead. Then his temples. Then his nose, and finally, Harley kissed Peter. Both of them were too busy giggling to do any actual kissing, but the warmth that Harley felt growing in his chest helped to make it all feel okay. Good. 

He pulled back slightly, to look Peter in the eyes, scanning his face for the pink blush that always coated Peters cheeks when he kissed him. Coupled by the small wheezes of laughter Peter had from all the kissing, and Harley could tell that this would be ingrained into his mind forever, “Better?” 

“Mmmm,” Peter pretended to think, his hand snaking to the back of Harley’s neck, “I think I might need a few more kisses to find out.” 

Harley rolled his eyes, “You’re so needy.” 

“I haven’t seen you for four months,” Peter told him, still laughing slightly, but that didn’t change the slightly serious undertone to his voice, “I want all the kisses I can get.” 

Harley frowned. 

Right. 

Four months away from Peter Parker. Four months away from the boy he loved the most. Four months alone. 

He sat up, straddling Peter, leaning forward to press his forehead to Peters, and closing his eyes, “I’m sorry.” 

“What?"

“I just,” Harley thought on his words, “You said that you were in another universe.” 

“Well not really another universe,” Peter’s hands settled on Harley’s hips, “An off branch of this one created by the usage of the soul stone and reality stone, according to Dr. Strange. But yeah. I was.” 

“One without me.” 

“Yeah,” Peter’s voice was tight, “One without you.” 

“Yo never stopped fighting.” 

“I couldn’t."

“I gave up.” 

Peter sat up, leaning against the board and shifting Harley till they were face to face, “Harley-” 

“I shouldn’t have given up,” Harley told him, finally opening his eyes again, to stare into Peters, “I should have tried harder to get you back. I shouldn’t have given up.” 

“Harley, love,” Peter’s voice was soothing, hand his hand traveled up his side to cup Harley’s jaw, “The only reason I didn’t give up was because I had a wizard telling me- everyone- that we could get back and merge the worlds again. That I could have you back. That's the only reason I couldn’t give up.” 

“I’m still sorry.”   
  
“That's okay. But you don’t need to be.” 

Harley shook his head, his long hair falling in his eyes, “Peter,  you don’t get it. I gave up on you. I gave up on you and you were out there. And I gave up. I thought you were  _ dead _ , that you weren’t coming back. That you would never be back. And I was so stupid, because I believed that. I believed you were gone. God, I’m so sorry Peter. If I had just had a little more faith-” 

“Harley,” Peter’s voice was heavy, “You had so much faith that I would be okay. Tony told me. Abbie did to. So did Miles. Everyone mentioned how much you truly believed I was going to come back and be alive. And then for two months you were thinking of ways and ideas of where we could be. Miles told me about some of your theories, Harley. I know you were trying so so hard at first. And honestly, I’m so so proud of you for trying that long-” 

“I should’ve kept trying longer-” 

“Love,” Peter’s favorite pet name for him felt so wrong. He didn’t deserve to be called love. Not when he had given up on Peter, “Harley. Please. Just listen to me for a second. Please?” 

Harley looked at Peter, searching his eyes. Blue met brown. He nodded, after realizing that Peter wasn’t going to lie to him. Wasn’t going to sugar coat it. 

“I love you,” He told him, “And you were so strong. You had no reason to believe I would come back and for two months you held onto the idea that I would. You were grieving, and angry, and upset, and I have no doubt that you were destroyed. I was destroyed. When we came back to earth and you were gone, I was destroyed. And I  _ knew _ we were going to get you back. You had no reason to believe we were going to be back.” 

Peter’s hand slipped under his shirt, his thumb rubbing along his hip bone, as if reminding himself that Harley was there, “I get it. I get it so much. Please don’t blame yourself for not being okay enough to fight a battle that you didn’t know would actually help anything. And I love you so much for trying so hard for so much.” 

“But I should have tried harder-” 

“You did everything you could in the state of mind that you were in,” Peter’s voice went a little quieter, “Abbie told me how tired you were. How depressed you were. How angry you were. I won’t lie to you, during those four months were I was so angry at the world. My lowest point was… bad. But from what I’ve heard, yours was so much worse. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.” 

Harley shook his head, cupping Peter’s jaw to look at him better, “You listen here and you listen good, Peter Benjamin Parker. You never have to be sorry. We both went through shit. We both went through bad shit. And at the end of the day- we have each other. Alright? We have each other.”

“I know,” Peter leaned up into his touch, pulling Harley’s face closer to give him a light kiss, before pulling away, “We’ll always have each other.” 

They sat in silence for a bit, Harley leaning onto his chest, his face resting on top of his shoulders. Peter’s lips were pressed against his neck, his soft breathing giving Harley goosebumps. They’d always have each other.    


Peter pulled back a bit, “Abbie said you hadn’t been eating.” 

“Oh,” Harley shrugged, “I just wasn't hungry.” 

“Harley…” 

“I know, I know,” He didn’t look at Peter, still resting his head on his shoulder, “I just… When I ate, I got tired. When I was tired… well… I slept.” 

“Sleepings not bad.” 

“It is when you have nightmares,” Harley shrugged again, pressing his chest to Peter’s trying to feeling his heartbeat, “And... when I didn’t sleep… I saw you.” 

“You mentioned.” 

“Hallucinations.” 

“I know,” Peter whispered, pressing a kiss into Harley’s shoulder, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“Maybe,” Harley shook his head as much as he could, “No. I don’t know.” 

“Okay.”

“It was just easier when I wasn’t sleeping.”

Peter pressed another kiss into his shoulder, “It was the same for me.” 

“You didn’t sleep either?”   
  
“I couldn't,” Peter admitted, “I was to busy trying to find a way to get back to you. Aunt May was always on me for not sleeping, but I just… needed to find a way back.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” Peter smiled sadly, a little bitterly, “I just… I never really realized how much I loved you, how much I needed you, until you were gone. Ripped away from me. I always knew that I loved you, but god Harley, that really just…”

“Broke you?” Peter nodded, and Harley smiled at him, just as sad and bitter, “It broke me too.” 

“It broke both of us.” 

“Man,” Harley tried to lighten the mood a bit, but it fell flat before he even said the words, “We really are codependent aren’t we?” 

Peter’s eyes scanned his face, “That’s not a bad thing.” 

“You’re right. Its not.” 

“Well,” Peter paused as if to think,his face dark, “It might be a little bad.” 

“How so?” 

“When I realized you were stuck in this world,” Peter paused, “The world without me… and I was stuck in a world without you, I fell apart. You can ask Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Harry, anyone who was there with me… and they can all tell you. I was bad, Harley. I was so bad. I was breaking down in the streets, trying to find you- or Abbie, or Miles, or Pepper, anyone- and fighting my way through my emotions because I couldn’t deal with the idea that we may not be able to get back.” 

Peter paused again, moving his hand to wipe at his eyes, “That I may never have been able to get back to you. To see you again. And I was so angry. I was always so angry. I was ready for a fight constantly and it just… I think it destroyed me. Missing you destroyed me.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You never have to be sorry.”

“We both suffered pretty badly.” 

“Yeah,” Peter pulled back a bit, “Are we going to be okay?” 

Harley pulled back a little to, looking at his boyfriend with calculating eyes, “Yeah. I think we will be. Not anytime soon but, hey, we have each other? Right?”

“Always.”

“Then we’ll be okay.” 

“Would this be a bad time to ask you,” Peter moved his hand to cup Harley’s, lacing their fingers together, “If you would want to get married?” 

“No,” Harley shook his head, “This wouldn’t be a bad time. In fact I think it's the perfect time.” 

Peter looked nervous, gripping Harley’s hand tighter, “So?” 

“So what?” 

“Do you want to?” 

“Peter,” Harley moved both hands to cup Peter’s face, dragging Peter’s hand along with him, “I literally just said we’d be okay if we always had each other. I’ve been wearing the ring you bought me since the day I found out you weren’t coming back. If you think that I would  _ ever _ say no, then you’re fucking insane.” 

Peter didn’t respond, just leaned up and kissed Harley like his life depended on it. Harley sighed in content, leaning into the kiss with all his heart, letting it get deepened, as his boyfriend- no, fiance-  finally got his morning kiss. By the time that Peter pulled away, Harley was chasing after his lips, and Peter was smiling, “We’re going to get married.”

“We’re gonna get married,” Harley agreed, smile so wide and glowing that it hurt his cheeks, “We’re gonna get married, Peter.” 

“I love you,” Peter told him, cupping his face, “I love you so so much. I know when we talked about it we said we were gonna wait until after college-” 

“Oh fuck that,” Harley cut him off, kissing his forehead, “Fuck that  _ so hard.  _ I just got you back. I just got you back for good, and you can bet your  _ ass  _ I am putting a ring on it and keeping it there.” 

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Peter told him with a smile, bringing him down for another kiss.

Their kissing quickly turned into more, but Harley found himself too happy and too enthralled in Peter to actually care about how long they were taking to get out of bed. 

After all, they now had all the time in the world. 

All the time in the world to love each other. All the time in the world to start their days. All the time in the world to kiss. All the time in the world to eat breakfast. All the time in the world to be happy. All the time in the world to be okay. 

Because right now, in that moment, everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Especially to those who have been reading since Last Name Keener, First Name Harley. I'm please to announce that this series will be continuing until I find something better to do with my time lol. I'm gonna try to continue weekly updates until the series is done tho. 
> 
> A big big thank you do the harley keener discord for always being there and supporting my dumb bitch ass when my writing is stupid. Huge shout outs to Mel and Mauv who both help me figure out characters, and a big thanks to Astrid who is my angst writing buddy. And one more big big big thanks to Emry who is always?? So nice??? And supporting?? And down with my spelling errors lmao
> 
> You can hit me up @ Lovelylangst on tumblr, and as always, tell me what you think!!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can hit me up @ Lovelylangst on tumblr! And a big thank you to EmryCznery for beta reading again!! I'm so sorry you have to deal with my horrible grammar omg!
> 
> Tell me what you guys think!!


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